A Beautiful Mistake
by Apinapoikaerkki
Summary: After the plane crash and the law suit that followed, things are finally starting to settle for Owen and Cristina - until a woman from the past appears, and in one night, Owen's life is turned upside down. Will this shocking turn of events bring Cristina and Owen closer together.. or break them apart for good? Slightly AU, focuses a lot on Owen and CO. DARK.
1. Prologue - A Night Off

**Author Notes: Again a huge thank you to all those who have read/reviewed my stories. I really appreciate the feedback.**

**About this story. This is a twist that has haunted me ever since Owen's ONS was explored in 8.19. Now I decided to write about it and give it a go. I hope you like it! **

**P.S. Please tell me whether you liked this story or not. This is just a prologue. I'm planning to continue this, but thoughts and suggestions are more than welcome! :)**

* * *

It had been so long since Owen had felt happiness that he had almost forgotten how it felt like to feel joy. How it felt like to smile. How it felt like to be relaxed. To laugh. To just lie still without having to worry about work or love or live in general. This was the first time in months that Owen thought that he was happy. The first time that he didn't have to worry about the plane crash or the law suit. The first time that he didn't feel the guilt that had constantly tormented him ever since that fateful day. Finally, he could rest.

The light touch of a hand caressing his shoulder made Owen smile. He turned on his side and looked at the beautiful angel lying next to him. Her black curls were a silky mass of tempting darkness, her brown eyes were like two peaces of the most palatable chocolate and her lips, the most perfect lips imaginable, were red as the tastiest apple.

"Forbidden apple", Owen whispered.

"What?" Cristina asked, smiling.

"Nothing." Owen looked her in the eye and smiled. His left hand moved to smooth her cheek. She placed her hand on top of his. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking", Owen said, "that I'm happy. For the first time in ages, I'm happy. I'm happy to just lie here, next to you. I wish we could stay here forever."

"Me too", Cristina replied and moved closer, so that Owen could hold her in his arms. "I'm happy, too."

"I thought I could never feel like this again. Ever since the plane crash I've been feeling like I can never be at peace again. I mean, the law suit and everything that came after that... I thought I could never rest again. But now... now I'm relieved and at peace and happy. That's what I'm thinking."

"Okay", Cristina said and smiled. "Do you want to know what I'm thinking?"

Owen nodded.

"I'm thinking that we both have the night off and we're lying on my mattress, naked, and everyone else is at work, so we have the entire night and the entire house to ourselves."

"And?" Owen asked with a little grin.

"And since you're happy and I'm happy, I thought we could share some of that happiness with each other."

"Oh, that's what you thought?" Owen chuckled and slowly rolled Cristina on her back while positioning himself on top of her. "Yep, that's what I thought", Cristina answered.

Owen lowered his head and placed a kiss on her lips. He then looked at her for a moment, viewing her beauty. "Owen?" Cristina asked. "What are you thinking now?"

"I'm thinking that I love you", he replied.

Cristina smiled. "I love you too."

* * *

April was in a hurry. A bus vs. SUV had flooded the ER with patients and she felt like she had to be at ten places at once. Now that the hospital was a level one trauma center again, patients were brought to the ER at a steady pace. April loved being back in the Pit but tonight she felt like she was in way over her head. Dr. Hunt had the night off and she was in charge. Of course an accident of that caliber had to happen just that night.

As she tried to asses the situation, April spotted the screaming pregnant lady being brought in.

"What do we have here?" she asked as she hurried to receive the patient.

"A 30-year old female with a broken leg, multiple blunt force trauma and injuries on her face, hands and upper body, a possible concussion and internal hemorrhage. The patient was on the front of the bus, suffered an almost direct hit. She is nine months pregnant."

"Okay, let's take her to trauma 1. Someone page doctors Torres and Robbins, we need to figure out what's the situation with her baby", April said and then looked at the patient. She was a tall woman with a narrow face and curly blond hair. "Ma'am, my name is Dr. Kepner, you are at the Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. Can you tell me your name?"

"Sharon. Sharon MacAllister", the woman answered, then grimaced with pain. "Oh God! My stomach, it hurts. Do something!"

"Ma'am, you have to try to relax", April said as they carried the patient to the trauma room. "You're going to be fine."

"God it hurts!" The woman closed her eyes in anguish. "Get your boss in here right now!"

The woman's demand took April by surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Your boss. The guy with the red hair. He's your boss, right?"

"Dr. Hunt?" April asked, puzzled. "He has the night off, he's not here..."

"Well then get him in here!"

"Okay, ma'am, you need to relax. For the baby's sake. I am Dr. Hunt's second-in-command in the ER, I assure you, I am just as capable as –"

"For this baby's sake", the woman said with a dangerous tone, "I want you to get him here right now!"

Patient in pain or not, the woman's attitude was starting to get under April's skin. "And why is that, if I may ask?"

The woman opened her eyes and glared at April. "Because he's the damn father."


	2. Chapter 1 - Yours

**Author Notes: A huge thank you to all who gave me feedback about this story! I really appreciate it, and I'm glad that so many people found it worth their while to give me reviews and feedback. So thank you!  
To those who didn't like the story: Thanks for your criticism and feedback! I appreciate it, I really do. I realize that this is a very flammable and questionable subject, but that is exactly why I want to try it. I hated this story line in Grey's Anatomy, I really did, but I like to play with the possibility of _what if_. I want to see what it could have been, how it would've unfolded if something had gone differently.**

**Another thing is that I want to be able to let my imagination fly free. Writing is the one thing where nothing and nobody gets to shackle me. I do not want to be bound to only write stories about CO where everything is fluffy and things work like a charm. I like reading stories like that, but I also want to write stories where things fall apart and have to be reconstructed. There is no rule here that forbids doing what Shonda does and place CO on a difficult journey. "Unleash your imagination" is written on the top of the page, and as long as I'm not breaking written rules, I choose to wield that right to write. **

**Third thing is that though I respect your advice to let this be and not poke the beehive, it is not my custom to not tell a story if there's even one person out there who wants to hear it. So unless that last reader says "stop", I do not stop telling this story until _The End_. **

**For those who liked the story:**** Thank you for your encouraging feedback. Thanks to your reviews, here is the update. I'm sorry I haven't been around for a while, but I've been too busy with my exams to even think about writing. From now on I try to update as frequently as possible, but since I'm a Sixth former, I cannot promise anything. But as long as you guys are interested, I am going to continue this story.**

**Like always, review and share your thoughts! :)**

* * *

Cristina was lying on her mattress, eyes closed. Her body was completely relaxed, there was absolutely no sign of the stress that had pestered her for the past few weeks. She was lying on _her_ mattress in _her _room, not in some dreary room in Minnesota. She was with the people that she loved, and did the job that she loved. But most importantly, she was with the man that she loved. Finally, everything was the way it was supposed to be: what she smelled was Owen's scent, what she felt was the warmth that Owen's embrace had left her with, and what she heard was the sound of Owen pouring himself a glass of water downstairs. This was how she wanted things. This was how she wanted things to stay. She was perfect. He was perfect. They were perfect.

_Beep beep!_

Cristina opened her eyes and sat up. On her left, on the small nightstand, Owen's pager was beeping. "Owen?" she called him through the ajar bedroom door. "Honey?"

She heard his distant voice answering: "What?"

"It's your pager!"

"What does it say?"

Cristina grabbed the pager and read the message. "It's from Kepner. It says _ERA p NYH_." She had no idea what the message meant, but clearly it was something important since she immediately heard the sound of Owen running up the stairs. Soon the bedroom door flung open and Owen rushed in. Cristina gave him the pager and he quickly checked the message, his expression darkening.

"What is it?" Cristina asked. "What does that mean?"

"It's a trauma abbreviation that Kepner and I use", Owen said as he searched for his pants and shirt. "It means 'ER Armageddon, patient. Need you here'. We've agreed to only use that message when something truly disastrous happens. Now where the hell are my clothes?"

Cristina got up, picked his jeans from the floor and gave them to him. "Here. Your socks are there, next to the laundry basket, and your shirt is downstairs. You have to go to the hospital?"

"Yes. Something big has happened, I must be there."

Cristina nodded. "Then I'm coming with you."

"No, no", Owen said. "This is your night off. We can't let the trauma trash the night for the both of us. You should stay here and get some sleep."

Cristina bridled. "Okay. But if I have to spend the night sleeping, I'd say it's pretty much trashed already."

Owen chuckled. "Then eat. Or bathe. Or read a book. I'll try to get off as soon as possible, okay?"

"Okay", Cristina consented. Owen gave her a quick kiss and then ran downstairs to look for his shirt. She crossed her arms and sighed. Although she loved her job and was proud of Owen for being a trauma god, sometimes she just hated the job for having such a lousy timing.

* * *

Owen drove to the hospital as quickly as he could and hurried to the ER. There were a lot of patients, but nothing seemed so overwhelming that Kepner would've had to page him with an emergency message. He spotted Dr. Brooks taking care of the schedule board and walked to her. "Dr. Brooks."

The intern turned around, surprised. "Chief Hunt! I thought you had the night off?"

"Yea, I received an emergency page from Dr. Kepner. Can you tell me where she is?"

"Uh, no. But umm... let me see." She turned around and examined the board. "Looks like doctors Kepner, Robbins, Torres and Fields are currently in OR 2."

"Thank you." Owen was about to leave, but suddenly stopped. "Wait. Did you say Fields? As in Lucy Fields? The obstetrician that returned from Africa last month?"

"Yes."

"So there's a baby involved?"

"I don't know, probably."

"Alright." Owen hurried forward. He didn't like the sound of the situation. Trauma surgery and a baby were never a good combination. He didn't like operating on children. He loved kids, and emergency surgeries on children went wrong way too often. He almost hated having a child on his operating table. He still remembered clearly how narrowly they had managed to save the life of little Sofia, his goddaughter. He never wanted to go through that again.

At the hallway leading to the OR, Owen bumped into Dr. Robbins, who was just exiting the OR. She looked at him with round eyes. "Owen!"

"Hey, Arizona. What's going on? Kepner emergency paged me and –"

"It's a car accident", Dr. Robbins said. "But technically you're not allowed to help, so –"

"What? What do you mean I can't help?"

"Look, Owen. You weren't paged here to help. You can't do anything –"

"What are you talking about? I'm the Chief of Surgery _and _the Head of Trauma surgery, of course I can –"

"Owen _listen to me!_" Dr. Robbins snapped, and then continued in a slow, low tone: "You can't help because the hospital policy forbids family members from entering the OR."

"I... What?" Owen stared at Arizona in shock, his eyes widening. "Family members? What do you...? Is my mom there?"

"No, not your mother. It's..." But before Arizona could finish her sentence, her pager went off. She checked it and her mouth dropped. "I have to go back."

"Arizona, wait!"

"Owen, I need to go."

"I'm coming with you."

"No!" Arizona spun around and pointed her finger at Owen while staring at him with her best _Angry-mother-_stare. "You can't. So unless you want me to page Dr. Webber here to keep you outside, you stay where you are." She turned around and disappeared through the doors.

Owen was thunderstruck. He had no idea what was going on. He sat to the floor, his back leaning against the wall, and tried to make some sense to the situation. He was paged to the ER with a major 911 page, but then banned from helping or even entering the OR, because according to Arizona, he was a family member. Owen was completely lost. His mother and Cristina were the only family he had in Seattle, and both were safe. His father had passed away a long time ago, and his aunts, uncles and cousins with their families were unlikely to be visiting Seattle, at least not without him knowing it. No, there had to be some misunderstanding, because there was no way that the patient, whoever he or she was, could be a member of his family.

Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. Finally, after twenty minutes had elapsed, the doors opened and Dr. Torres emerged from the OR. Owen stood up and noticed the strange, plaintive look on her face. "Callie?" he asked.

Callie looked at him oddly, as if she didn't know what to say (quite strange, since talking had never been difficult for her, if not on stage), then gulped and said: "Miss MacAllister crashed soon after we had paged you, so we had to take her to the OR. During surgery, we were able to repair much of the internal injuries and stop the hemorrhage, but as we moved on to asses the damage done to her ribs, spine and pelvis, her abdominal aorta ruptured. We tried the best we could to contain the bleeding, but were unable to stop it, and we were unable to save her. So doctor Fields insisted on moving our focus on trying to save the baby, and so we performed a C-section. Doctors Fields and Robbins were able to get the baby out, but turns out that the she was born with a VSD. Dr. Fields is currently assessing her condition. I'm sorry."

Owen just stared at her. He had no idea what was going on. Based on what she had just told him, some pregnant woman named MacAllister had just died, and her baby might be in serious danger. But Owen didn't know anyone named MacAllister. She certainly wasn't a family member, and the only MacAllister Owen could remember was a soldier, Geoff MacAllister, who had died in Iraq years ago.

"Owen?" Apparently, he had sunk into his thoughts for too long, because Callie placed her hand on his shoulder and looked at him with pity in her eyes. "I know this

is a terrible situation, but –"

"No", Owen replied and moved Callie's hand aside. "No, it's not. There has been some misunderstanding. I don't know anyone named MacAllister. I don't know who she is. She's not my family."

"No, she's not, but the –" Callie suddenly paused and looked at Owen, her eyes widening. "Wait. What?"

"I have no idea who this woman is. I don't know any MacAllisters."

"Are you serious? Sharon MacAllister."

Owen shook his head. "I'm telling you, the name doesn't ring any bells."

Callie was silent for a moment, and looked at him with wide eyes. "Oh my God. You really don't know."

"Know what?" Owen was getting impatient. "Callie, what the hell is going on?"

Callie looked at him, her eyes full of concern. "Come with me", she said with a heavy voice.

Owen followed her to the OR. Doctors Robbins and Fields were busy working over a small operating table, examining a tiny human being. The baby was quiet and still, which was never a good sign. On the other side of the room, Dr Kepner was standing over a covered body. The mother, Owen realized.

As the door clanged shut behind Owen and Callie, Robbins noticed them. "Hunt!" she exclaimed, then looked at her wife. "What are you doing?" At this point, Dr. Fields had also noticed the comers, and she frowned her sharp brows and gave Callie and angry stare. "He's not allowed in here, get him out!"

"He doesn't know", Callie said and quickly walked to Kepner. "Remove the cover."

"What? A-are you sure?" replied Kepner, who was nervously glancing at Owen.

"Yes. Do it."

Kepner did what she was told and quickly moved aside the cover, revealing the face of the deceased. Owen, who was totally clueless, stepped closer to see. The woman was around thirty, she had a narrow face and she had probably once been very attractive, but now her face was ghastly pale and covered in bruises.

"I don't...", Owen started, but then fell silent after noticing the woman's hair. It was blond and curly, like a blond version of Cristina's hair. And as soon as that thought had formed in his mind, the memory hit him. He gasped, his eyes widened in shock and he took a step back from the body. "Oh my God..."

"Dr. Kepner paged you here on her request", Callie explained. "She insisted on you being here."

"But... I..." Owen couldn't get a word out of his mouth. The fact that he was staring at the body of _that _woman, that horrible, horrible mistake that had almost destroyed his relationship with Cristina had struck him like a bolt from the blue. It had taken so long for him to win her back, they had had to go through so much before things had returned to normal, and now _that _woman was back. Why? Owen couldn't understand it, and now he was as if poleaxed. Finally, he managed to get some words out of his mouth: "What does this have to do with me? What did... what did she want from me?"

"Owen", Callie said, "she wanted you here because of her." She pointed at the small operating table, where Robbins and Fields were still taking care of the newborn.

"What? I don't..."

"I know what happened, Owen", Callie said. "Teddy told me before she left. She didn't want to spread your stuff around, but she told me, because she wanted me to look after you for her. She told me what she had heard from you. That was almost nine months ago, Owen."

Owen stared at Callie, then at the small operating table. "Are you...? What are you..."

"The baby was born with blue eyes, Owen. Her hair is dark, and though babies' hair tends to lighten over time, I'd say hers will be curly and red. We haven't done any tests yet, but according to miss MacAllister, there is no other option."

"I –"

"She was sure ", Callie interrupted, "that the baby is yours."

Owen stared at Callie in pure shock, then looked at the operating table. At that moment, a monitor went off, and the sound of the alarm was mixed with the loud exclamation of Dr. Fields: "Oh crap!" Everyone in the room turned to see how doctors Robbins and Fields started to hastily work on the baby, and over the commotion, Dr. Fields shouted: "Torres, get him out! Get him out of here! Now!"


	3. Chapter 2 - Emergency Baptism

**Author Notes:** **Thanks for reviewing! You are all so great! :)**

**Now, the idea for this chapter comes from real life. What happens in this story also happened in my family. My sister and her twin were born with a VSD and they got RSV, which resulted in my sister being emergency baptized and her twin, sadly, dying. So that's where this chapter comes from. Also, that is why the emergency baptism in this chapter is done following the Evangelical Lutheran format. **

**As always, hope you like it and please review! :) It helps me a lot to know whether anyone is still actually reading this story or not.**

* * *

The night sky was darker than ever before. High above the earth, in the heavens, heavy clouds were forming a swirling, turbulent cover over the ground, shrouding the world in darkness. The wind blew through the streets of Seattle as an icy howl, carrying leaves and trash with it. Just after midnight, the first echo of a rumbling thunder split the blackness, and rain began to pour down from the sky. Truly, it was a dark night.

Owen was sitting on a seat in the Peds waiting area, just around the corner from the NICU where doctors Robbins and Fields were working on the ill newborn. After Dr. Torres had escorted him out of the OR and into the waiting area, he had just sat there, staring at his own hands that lay on his lap. He couldn't believe that he was in this situation. He couldn't believe that just a little over 10 minutes ago, his life had been normal. His life had made sense. Then Callie had arrived from the OR, and his entire life had been turned inside out and upside down. And now he found himself sitting in a totally different world.

"Hey."

Owen lifted his head and saw Callie standing in front of him, holding a cup of coffee. "I thought you might need a little something", she said and handed the cup to him. "Here."

"Thanks", Owen muttered and took the cup. He didn't really feel like drinking, so he settled to just staring at the cup. The hot drink burned his fingertips through the cardboard, but he didn't care.

"How are you holding up?", Callie asked, compassionately.

Owen shook his head. "Honestly? I don't know. It... This still feels so unrealistic. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel or do or how I should be acting. It just doesn't seem real, you know. It feels like a dream."

Callie slowly nodded. "I know how you feel. Or, not exactly how you feel, but... When Arizona and I broke up and I found out that I was pregnant, it felt like the entire world had become different. It felt like I was somebody else, because _I _don't get pregnant – at least not when my girlfriend has dumped me at the airport. But still, even though it felt like it wasn't me, it was. It was real, I became a mother for real. Is that how you feel?"

"Yes", Owen accorded. She had pretty much nailed it. They sat in silence for a moment, then Owen asked: "So who knows about this?"

"You mean about the..."

"Yes."

Callie thought for a while. "Besides you and me, only Arizona, April and Dr. Fields. Don't worry, first thing I did was tell them to shut up about this. Well, you know what a windbag April is, but I think you don't have to worry about them."

Owen laughed joylessly. "Do you honestly think it's them that I'm worried about?"

"No", Callie answered with a serious tone. "Oh my God, how are you going to tell

her?"

Owen gave another bleak laugh. "I don't know. The hell, I don't know _anything_ anymore. I don't even know how to feel! I'm numb, Callie. Everything's a freaking mess and I can't even feel it because some part of me still refuses to believe it's real."

"Hey, hey." Callie placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a compassionate look. "That's not true, Owen. You do feel something. You do feel something, and that something is worry. I can see it. There's a little girl in that room, probably fighting, and you feel worry. It's okay to be messed up, it's okay to feel lost. This is a horrible situation, but you have to find your way. For that girl's sake, you have to focus on that feeling of worry and keep yourself together. Okay?"

Owen nodded and managed to smile a little. "You sound like my old trauma mentor."

Callie smiled. "I'm multi-talented and I love speaking."

The next minutes – more like hours – passed in silence, until finally they heard the sound of a door opening. Owen and Callie quickly stood up as Arizona, dressed in a pink gown, appeared from behind the corner and walked towards them. The grave-serious expression on her face was all too evident.

"What's the situation?" Owen asked. His voice was hollow, and the question came out almost as a mechanical function, as if his concern was forced. He also realized that he hadn't even asked about _her_, he had just neutrally asked about the situation.

Arizona spoke with a professional tone: "The baby's VSD isn't threatening, but during our examination, she developed an alarmingly high fever and showed symptoms of bronchiolitis. We did some quick tests, which show that she has RSV, Human –"

"Human Respiratory Syncytial Virus, I know", Owen interrupted, and as he said it, he felt something for the first time during that evening: ice in his stomach. "And?"

"We have given her nebulized hypertonic saline and provided her with fluids and oxygen, but I'm afraid her condition has deteriorated significantly. Right now all we can do is wait."

"How bad is it?" Owen asked. The chilling fist that had grabbed his insides was getting colder. He could see how Arizona bit her lip before giving him a grim answer: "So bad that I suggest you start considering an emergency baptism. She may not have a lot of time."

From the corner of his eye, Owen could see Callie covering her mouth with her hand. He felt the freezing fist grabbing him tighter, wrapping itself around his whole body so tightly that it felt like his abdomen and chest were being crushed in a waste compactor. He cleared his throat and asked: "Can I... see her? Please?"

Arizona bent her head a little bit as a sign of consent and then turned around. Owen followed her around the corner and through the doors to the NICU. Arizona lead him to a room with monitors, an incubator and a rocking chair in the corner. There was a weird smell in the room. The baby was lying in the incubator, connected to a ventilator. With a concerned, almost fearful look on his face, Owen stepped closer to the incubator and took a look at the child.

The baby was small. She was an incredibly small, pink little human being. Her small arms lay on her sides, and her big adorable eyes were calmly shut. Censors and wires covered her bare chest. Her crown was covered by a tuft of dark, reddish hair. Next to her was a little stuffed bunny and a label _I'm a baby Girl!_. She looked so small, helpless and innocent. And so calm. Owen couldn't stop thinking that she looked as if she was merely sleeping, even though she was fighting to survive. "She looks so peaceful", he whispered.

"She's fighting", Arizona said. "It's just not visible."

Owen swallowed. "Can I touch her?"

"Go ahead."

Owen put his hand through the hole in the side of the cover and slowly, gently placed his finger against the baby's warm, almost hot cheek. He moved his hand and his finger followed, sliding over the baby's soft skin. "Hey", he whispered. "It's okay. I'm here. Okay? I'm here... Dad's here." As he said it, he suddenly understood that this was the first time he caressed his daughter. His tiny, ill daughter. The sudden realization hit him unbelievably hard, and before he knew it, he was fighting back tears. For the first time he realized that this was his daughter. He was a father, this was his child, and she was possibly dying. He couldn't bear seeing her covered in wires and censors. He pulled back his hand, closed his eyes, tilted his head back and took deep, shaky breaths while the tears that he tried to hold back broke free and started to run down his cheeks.

"Owen?" Arizona said carefully. "I know this is the worst possible situation, but we may not have much time on our hands. If you want, I can arrange the emergency baptism. She needs a name."

Owen looked at the innocent baby. "How can I name her? I don't know her."

"Of course you can. You're her father. Though this situation isn't exactly typical, it doesn't erase the fact that she's your daughter. Trust me, you know her better than anyone. And as her father, you are completely rightful to give her a name. Now, do you want me to arrange the hospital chaplain here?"

Owen nodded.

"Okay", Arizona said."I'll take care of it."

* * *

Only a half an hour later, everything was set. The hospital chaplain, Owen, Arizona and Callie, whom Owen had asked there for support, had gathered around the incubator. As the ceremony begun, Owen thought about how easy the naming had been. He had thought that naming the baby would be an impossible task, but in the end, and with Callie's help, the names had came naturally. He had decided to name the baby after his mother's sister, who had died in an accident at the age of 12. For the child's sake, he had also decided to name her in honor of her mother. Callie had suggested giving her a name that brought hope of her beating her illness, and after a while, the name was ready. And now he, along with the other witnesses, lowered his head as the chaplain sprinkled a couple drops of carefully refined water over the baby's head and baptized her.

"Claire Allie Victoria Hunt, I baptize you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."


	4. Chapter 3 - Bad News

**Author Notes:**** Pardon my long absence. After my vacation it took a while to get into writing, and then came the Season 9 finale, which left me completely devastated because of what happened**** to Cristina and Owen. But now I'm back to writing.** **Your reviews are great, keep them coming! Reviews really help me to write faster, and if you have any suggestions, please tell them! :)**

* * *

This was not how Owen had pictured things to happen. He had always dreamt of this moment, but never had he pictured things to happen the way they had now happened in real life. This had been his dearest dream, his deepest desire ever since he had been old enough to understand these kinds of things. He had always had it in him, ever since he was a child. According to his mother, he had acted like a big brother to his younger cousins when he was just four years old. As a teenager, he had babysat his older cousin's children and some other kids living in the same neighborhood. And unlike all of his friends, who just whined about having to babysit their little siblings or cousins, he actually enjoyed doing it. That's when his mother had said that he was made to nurture, and since then Owen had known that he would definitely have children one day. He would find the woman of his life, marry her, and start a family with her, because nurturing was his thing. He had always known that. He had always – as a child, as a resident, as a soldier - known that at heart, he was a family man. He was a parent. He was a father.

Of course, as Owen now knew, life wasn't fair enough to fulfill fairy tales. No, life was often cruel. It made you believe that your dreams would come true, and just when you were at your highest peak, it pulled the rug from under your feet. Just like it had done with him. He had found the woman of his life and married her, but then things had just started to fall apart, which had lead him to seek comfort from another woman. It had been a huge mistake that had almost cost him the love of his life, but at the same time – whether because of a blessing, a curse, or a twist of fate – it had offered him the dream of his life. But this wasn't the way Owen had wanted things to happen. The child wasn't the fruit of live, born after nine months of excitement and waiting. Its birth hadn't resulted in joy and the happy faces of the new mother, father and grandmother. Never had Owen thought that the birth of his child would result in a hasty emergency baptism and him sitting beside an incubator, watching his child silently struggle, fearing for the child's life. And all this while trying to figure out a way to tell the love of his life that he now had a child with another woman – moreover, a dead woman.

There was a flash of light in the room as lightning split the night outside the window. Rain poured against the glass and the roar of thunder billowed throughout Seattle. The noise would've been enough to wake the dead, but it wasn't enough to wake little Claire.

"Come on", Owen whispered as he once again placed his hand against her tiny body. "You have to get better. Okay? You need to live." He smiled sadly. "You need to wake up so you can show me those pretty eyes of yours. Daddy still hasn't seen your eyes. Aunt Callie tells me they're very beautiful, blue like mine. You need to show them to me." Owen found it a bit strange, referring to himself as 'Daddy'. He was still trying to process the fact that he was now a parent. He had thought that the world could never bring before him anything as terrifying as the things he faced in Iraq, but this… this came pretty close. Owen now realized that there were other things in the world capable of inflicting fear than just war, weapons, explosions and constant danger to life. This kind of fear, though similar in strength, was different. It was like that oppressive fear that he had felt two times in his life: first when he saw Gary Clark press his gun against Cristina's head, and the second time during those hellish days when authorities were looking for the plane that had crashed, potentially killing so many people that he cared about. Owen now knew that not all fear came from mortal danger. Fear could also be triggered by situations like this. He was lost, the world felt so cold and enormous, and he was so small and all alone. The fact that he alone was responsible for the tiny human being in front of him, he had a little girl who was totally dependent on him, felt terrifying.

The monitors kept whirring and rain kept drumming against the window, but the little baby made no sound. Then there was the sound of door opening, as Callie and Arizona entered the room. Owen briefly looked at them over his shoulder. "Hey."

"Hey", Callie answered. "How is she?"

"Still sleeping. Or unconscious. I don't know. What's going on in the hospital?"

"Nothing much", Callie said. She went to stand next to Owen while Arizona walked to the monitors. "ER's pretty calm. Kepner's taking good care of it. I talked with Brooks and she said all the traumas from the crash have been taken care of."

Owen nodded. "Good."

"I also bumped into Derek on my way here. I asked him to cover for you for a couple of days, and he agreed."

"Did you tell him…?"

"No. I said you were sick."

"Okay, thanks", Owen said, though he couldn't help thinking that that excuse rarely worked around the hospital. "I don't want anyone to know about this before I've told to Cristina."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. All I know is that I have to tell her soon. This won't stay as a secret for long, and I don't want her hearing this from someone else. I need to be the one to tell her. If I only knew what to say."

"Well, whatever you're thinking of doing", said Arizona, who came to examine the baby, "do it fast. I already heard nurses talking about a 'Peds mystery patient', and it's getting nearly impossible trying to keep Alex out of the NICU. I'm running out of excuses and sooner or later he'll realize something is going on."

Owen sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry that you have to go through all this trouble."

"Anytime", Callie said as she and Owen stood back and let Arizona work in peace. Owen watched as she ran her hands over his daughter's body. There it was again. _His_ daughter. His daughter, all alone. He was alone, she was alone, and they were all alone against the world. No. Wait. Oh hell!

"Hey", Owen said and turned to Callie. "I forgot to ask. Is there any info on her" – he floundered before saying the next word – "_mother's_ family?"

Callie was silent for a while before answering: "Kepner and I looked into it. Turns out she didn't have a family."

"_At all?_" Owen asked in disbelief.

"Yea. Apparently, she was the daughter of a wealthy family in Florida. Her parents were killed in a hurricane when she was 15, and she was sent to Seattle to live with her aunt, who passed away when she was 21. That's when Sharon MacAllister took all her family fortune and decided to tour the world. After that the trail goes cold, but apparently she returned to Seattle about a year ago."

"Just in time to make a mess out of my life. Twice", Owen stated. He had hoped that Callie would've brought different kind of news. What she had just told him only confirmed his fears. There truly were no others. Just him and her… and maybe his mother. Another person to whom he had to tell about this sudden twist in his life.

Silently, Callie and Owen observed Arizona taking care of Claire. She examined the baby, checked her chart and looked through some papers. She then nodded to herself and turned around.

"So?" Owen asked.

"No change", Arizona said softly. "I'm sorry."

Owen shut his eyes as he felt an unpleasant blow in his gut. "Can't you do anything? Anything?"

"I'm sorry, but all we can do right now is wait. Only time will tell. We must be patient." Arizona looked at Owen, then smiled compassionately and took something from her pocket. "I can't bring any cure, but at least we have this." Owen looked as Arizona went to the incubator, took the small plate _Baby Girl 240512 _out of the side of the device, and replaced it with another plate. _Hunt, C._.

"Now she's got her own name tag", she said.

For some reason, this scene – a girl getting her name tag – made Owen smile a little. It was _his _daughter getting her name tag; she was now more than just a series of numbers. She was now Claire Hunt, a patient. _His _daughter. Earlier he had said that he felt nothing, but perhaps some sort of paternal instinct had woken up inside him after all.

"She's a tough girl, I know it", Callie said. "She's going to pull through this."

Owen nodded in agreement, just as he felt vibration in the pocket of his jeans. He dug up his phone and checked the message.

_Cristina: Just wanted to know when you get home, getting lonely here ;) Ps. what was the 911 page? Answer when you can._

Callie must've seen his expression sober, because she asked: "Is it her?"

Owen nodded.

"If you need to go, I can stay here and watch over her. I don't have any patients right now."

"Thank you, Callie", Owen said and then responded to Cristina's message.

_You: Could you come over here, asap? I need to see you._

A moment. Then:

_Cristina: Yes.__ See you soon._

* * *

_Cristina, we need to talk…_

_Cristina, maybe you should sit down…_

_You know I love you, right?_

Owen was walking towards the lobby with million things running in his mind. He was trying to figure out a way to tell her – how to begin, what to say. He had to do this correctly: every word had to be at the right place. He had no idea how Cristina was going to react. To be honest, he was quite afraid of her reaction. But there was no going back, now. She was already on her way, and he was just going to have to do his best and face whatever consequences his news would bring. After all, he was a soldier, though his military training had only prepared him to face enemy troops – not the wrath of women.

As he emerged from the hallway leading to the lobby, Owen felt thankful for none of his colleagues were around. He wasn't ready to face anyone. This was supposed to be his night off, and he didn't want any of his colleagues asking questions like why was he at the hospital when he had a free evening. The worst-case scenario would be bumping into Derek or Meredith. Derek thought he was sick and had probably already told his wife about covering as the Chief of Surgery, so they would probably suspect something if they saw him in the hospital.

Owen walked past the desk on the side of the lobby and didn't even notice the figure standing next to it until he heard Alex Karev's voice: "Hey, Chief!"

_Damn! _Owen thought, and didn't stop or slow down. "I'm a little busy right now, Karev. I'll get to you later."

Of course, as he should've known, his words had no effect. Karev was a stubborn man. "Dr. Hunt!" he shouted and ran after him. "I need to talk to you."

"Fine. Walk with me", Owen said and still didn't slow down. "What is it?"

"It's Doctor Robbins. She's been keeping me out of NICU all night and has practically locked herself in there. She put me in charge of Peds and said that she was working on a difficult case and then she just vanished. I heard there was a crash earlier, involving a pregnant woman, and I was just wondering if – "

"Doctor Robbins is working on a case under my orders and is therefore occupied", Owen interrupted, rather harshly. "If she put you in charge of Peds, then I trust you will take care of Peds and let Doctor Robbins do her job. Understood?"

Alex was clearly surprised by his stern tone of voice. "Okay…" he said and stopped walking. Owen kept on going and left him to stand there. He may have been a little too harsh, but he wasn't kidding when he said that he was busy. Right now there were more important things on his mind than Dr. Karev's problems.

Just as Owen arrived to the front of the lobby, the doors opened and _she_ came in. Cristina. She wore a black jacket that was almost as black as her curls of night. Owen flinched as the image of those other, blond curls flashed in his mind. Cristina walked towards him while shaking her umbrella, which was dripping water to the floor. Her chocolate-brown eyes found Owen's blue ones and she smiled. "Hey", she said as she reached Owen. "So, what's going on? Who needs a cardio goddess?"

Owen swallowed. She didn't have any idea. She had no idea about the shock that would soon hit her. The shock that he would cause her.

"Owen?" she asked. "What is it?"

He couldn't say a thing. He was already starting to hate himself because in a few moments, he would be inflicting horrible pain to the woman that he loved. He didn't know what to say, so the only thing that came out of his mouth was: "Follow me."

"Okay…?" Cristina said, her expression a little baffled. Owen started to walk towards the NICU and Cristina followed, trying to keep up with his pace. "Owen, slow down. Hey! Wait. What's with the hurry? Where are we going? And why aren't you in scrubs? Owen!" Owen didn't answer, he couldn't. So he just kept walking and finally led them to the NICU. He opened the door of the room where the incubator was. Callie, who was sitting beside the incubator, looked at Owen, then at Cristina, and quickly got up. Arizona was nowhere to be seen.

"I'll leave you guys alone", Callie quickly said and hurried past them. On her way out she gave Cristina a sad, compassionate look. Cristina watched her go and when the door clanged shut, she turned to Owen, with whom she was now seemingly alone. "What was that? What is going on? Why are we here?"

Owen didn't answer.

"Honey, you're scaring me. What is it?"

This was it. This was the moment. And once again, Owen found that words had failed him. Cristina was looking at him questioningly. The monitors behind them were whirring. Cristina's hair was surging down the sides of her head like a waterfall made of black silk. Her hair, so similar to the blond curls that had led them to this situation. And as he looked at her, trying to get his mouth to work, he suddenly remembered the morning when it had all come out in the open. The words that had been exchanged that morning echoed in his mind.

"_What was her name?" Cristina asked, holding a__ large tea mug in her hands. _

_Owen thought for a moment. "Honestly, I… I don't remember."_

He didn't remember then. But now he did. "Sharon."

"What?" Cristina asked. Owen looked her in the eye, the look in his blue eyes was sad. "Back then you asked me what her name was. I didn't remember then. Now I do. Her name was Sharon MacAllister."

"What are you…?" Cristina paused as she realized what he was talking about. "Why are you…? Why are you thinking about that? Owen?"

Owen exhaled deeply before answering. "Because earlier this evening, she was brought to the ER after a bus crash. That was the emergency page I got from Kepner."

Cristina raised her eyebrows. "So… you were paged here to operate on your…"

"No, Cristina. Kepner, Torres, Robbins and Fields operated on her, but they couldn't save her. She died on the table." He bit his lip, hesitated for a second and – while hating himself even more –added: "I was paged here because of her." He nodded towards the incubator.

"Because of a baby?" Cristina asked, confused. "But… that's pediatrics, not trauma. Why were you paged to – Wait! _Her _baby? Are you telling me that Kepner gave you a message of apocalypse just to get you to treat a baby who is" – she walked to the incubator and looked at the baby – "Right, a baby who is pretty much dying."

"No, Cristina…"

"I mean, that's got to be RSV or some other kind of infection. I'm not a specialist, but I'd say this kid's situation doesn't look so good. You're not a pediatric surgeon and this sure isn't something that would require you here as the Chief, so why the hell would Kepner page you here?"

"Cristina…"

"And why did I have to come here? Now our night off is ruined for the both of us. I swear, if Kepner messed up again, I'm going to –"

"Cristina, that's my daughter!" The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Cristina froze, her mouth open in mid-sentence. Her eyes reflected disbelief and – as if believing she had misheard – she asked: "What?"

Owen was breathing heavily. His expression was weighed down with grief. "Look at the name tag."

Cristina looked completely thunderstruck as she slowly turned and looked at the name tag on the side of the incubator. "'Hunt, C.' Hunt…" Her breathing became faster as she stared at the name, in shock.

"I'm so sorry."

"No, don't say it…"

"It happened nine months ago, Cristina, and today Claire was born. I was paged here…"

"No…"

"…because I am her father."

"NO!"


	5. Chapter 4 - Support

**Author Notes: ****This is a word of warning. In this chapter, things get ugly. After reading this chapter, you may jump to certain conclusions, but do know that this is not the end. After all, this story is about Owen and Cristina. I have no intention of destroying them, but upon hearing news like this, Cristina's reaction can't be expected to be positive. Furthermore, this is the story of their journey back together, but they cannot be reunited if they haven't been separated first. **

**If you are wondering why would write this kind of chapter/story, you can find my reasoning in the AN's of chapter 1. I do not like to write stories where problems appear and are solved within one chapter and then disappear. This story is written by WWSD (What Would Shonda Do) but the purpose is to make something good out of what happened in season 8. **

**I know this sounded grim, but I am just asking people not to give up on this story after reading the following chapter. I want to thank each and every one of you who have read and/or reviewed this story, and I hope that you keep reading and reviewing this story. Things will get better – but with time. You are all so great!**

* * *

"NO!"

Cristina took a step back. Her eyes, widened to the size of saucers, were staring at the man in front of her. Her mouth was still open from the cry of disbelief and growing terror that had escaped from her lips and tongue. She couldn't believe this. This couldn't be. Surely there couldn't be a force – neither a force of nature, fate, destiny nor, screw the scientist inside her, even a _god _– cruel enough in the world to cause something like this to happen. Not now. Not now when they were finally happy, when they were finally perfect. No.

"Cristina…" Owen said and moved closer, but she put up her hand in a _Stop!_-motion and closed her eyes. She was trying to make sense to this situation. Rationalize it, understand it. "How… How do you know it's… _she's_… yours?"

"Cristina…"

"Answer the question!"

"She told me – or she told Kepner, I… She told I'm the father."

"So there's nothing more than her word?"

"Well, the timing also matches, and…"

Cristina couldn't help it; she didn't even know why she did it, but at that moment she burst out laughing. High-pitched, giggling-like laughter flew from her mouth. "That's nine months, Owen! Do you know with how many men a woman can sleep in that time? You've got only her word and you're placing your trust on it like it's from the Bible. My God, Owen! How can you even know if she knew herself who the father is? I bet she's slept with dozens of men. You're… you're… you're just one of a dozen candidates and she just picked you because you probably make the most money for her to feed upon –"

"Cristina, you're not making any sense. You're in shock."

"No! _You're_ not making any sense. You've just decided to believe her without any evidence. I mean, how could you be –"

"Cristina!" Owen rasped, interrupting her. "Look at her. Look at her and tell me you don't see any of my features in her."

She shook her head. "Wow, you're really bent on believing this. You're actually trying to force this nightmare to be true."

"Just… look at her", Owen responded with pain in his eyes. Cristina looked at him for a moment and then slowly, hesitantly turned her head and lowered her eyes to the baby lying in the incubator. She was small. Pink. Feckless. She had reddish, ginger hair, same color as Owen's. And her face…

Cristina couldn't stop the gasp as she saw the baby's face. It was that of a typical baby: round and chubby, though a little paler than usually. But what caught Cristina's attention and caused her stomach to fall were the kid's nose and high cheekbones. Though smaller in size and younger, they were still exactly the same as his. And now she remembered the baby pictures that Owen's mother had once shown her. This baby was like a replica of those pictures, a little different but still similar in so many ways. This baby had a more knife-like jaw, her eyes were smaller, her complexion was a little lighter, and she was much smaller in size and terribly pasty, but still, without a doubt, she looked like Owen. Which meant that…

"Oh no", she whispered and backed away from the incubator. Her world was suddenly spinning. Her legs went numb and she grasped the arm of the rocking chair and sat, covering her face with her hands.

"Cristina, I…"

"Who knows about this?"

"What?"

"I said who knows about this", Cristina spoke from behind her hands. "I am asking how many people know about this. You said Callie, Arizona, Kepner and Fields operated on her. They all know? They all knew before me?"

"Well, I didn't really have any say on that, and for the record, they knew before even I knew. And why is that important?"

"Why is that..?" Cristina removed her hands and opened her eyes. Her look was stunned and she could feel that her eyes had turned a little bit wet. "That is important because I want to know just how many people knew about this before I did. I mean… My God, how could this even happen?"

"I don't know, I…"

"I mean, she just disappears for nine months and then, at just the perfect time, comes back and says: 'Hey, guess what? You knocked me up back then and now I'm going to give birth!' I can't believe you did something like this!"

"What?" Owen exclaimed. "You think I did this _on purpose_?"

"No, I'm just trying to understand how this happened. I don't think you did this on purpose, but I would think that you, as a doctor and a man, would know how to use a condom. Or did she say she was on the pill, or what?"

"What does that matter anymore? What's done is done."

"Yes, but why did it have to be done? She didn't even ask your opinion – she didn't even tell you about this. She did this even though it could've so easily been undone. Why didn't she get an –"

"BECAUSE NOT ALL WOMEN ARE LIKE YOU!"

Silence. Complete silence fell to the room. Even the rain, thunder and the monitors seemed to have fallen silent. Cristina and Owen were staring at each other, both panting, the eyes of both widening in shock and terror. The words hovered in the air between them, creating a gap, a bottomless gorge separating them. Cristina opened her mouth, tried to say something, but all that came out of her was a tear that emerged from the corner of her eye and rolled down her cheek. She stared at Owen who looked absolutely terrified at what he had just said. She was also terrified. Something had just broken between the two of them. Something important. She once again tried to speak, and this time some words came out: "Is that… Is that what you… really think?"

Owen seemed to be struggling with words as well. "I… I don't… I'm sorry. It's just that… Claire's condition is wrecking me and…"

Claire. The name echoed in her mind, forced its way through her consciousness, which felt like an icicle being pushed through her brain. Claire, the child she had denied him from having… and now somebody else had given it to him. And now he was free to hate her for it. In his eyes, she was the villain in this story. She was the monster. She had brought this on herself. And now his words echoed in her mind, and every echo hurt her like a lash of a whip. Never before, not even upon hearing the truth about the night of adultery that had started this all, had she been in pain like this. The pain was psychological. The pain was physical. The pain was everywhere. As a cardiothoracic surgeon, she knew the pain. It was the pain caused by a crushed, broken heart.

She was about to say something, when the spell in the room was suddenly broken by the sounds of nearing footsteps. The sounds came back, time started to pass, and the door was opened as Arizona entered the room with a hurry. "What's going on? Your shouting can be heard throughout the NICU!"

Cristina quickly wiped away the tear. "Nothing", she said as she collected herself and walked to the door. She then stopped and looked at Owen. "I hope she'll be alright."

"Cristina!" Owen called after her as she left. When the door shut behind her, she stopped, took a shaky breath and shoved her sorrow as deep inside as possible. She was fighting it with all her strength, but she was going to lose. She needed Mer. She needed her now more than ever. She angrily wiped away the tears from her eyes, but new ones just kept coming. She needed her friend. Now.

* * *

Alex Karev entered the attendings' lounge, feeling cranky. This really hadn't been his day, mainly because of Dr. Robbins. He was sure something was going on, something that wasn't told him. Rumors were flying about a "Peds mystery patient" and nosy nurses and inters had been attacking him all night, asking questions. It wasn't like Robbins to lock herself to the NICU and ban everyone else from entering. And it wasn't like her to keep him in the shadows. Something was definitely going on. Unfortunately that was everything he knew. All he knew was that Robbins was working on something top secret, while he was stuck treating a 5-year-old boy's exceptionally high scarlet fever. And interesting case, but nothing like a "mystery patient".

And if Arizona Robbins wasn't enough, there was also Chief Hunt. Usually Alex was used to people having strange mood swings, as he was quite volatile himself, but Hunt's sudden burst of anger was something he couldn't quite put his finger on. And Hunt was also involved in the mystery in NICU, as he had told Dr. Robbins was working in there under his orders.

_There has to be someone in here that knows something_, he thought as he scanned the room with his gaze. Avery was eating a banana next to the fridge. He probably knew nothing. Miranda Bailey was reading a chart while clicking her pen against the tabletop. She usually knew everything that was going on in the hospital, but she looked quite irascible, so only a suicidal fool would try to ask her anything. Dr. Fields was doing a crossword on the other side of the table. There was no way Alex was going to ask her anything. So that left him with Meredith and Derek, who were sitting on the couch. _Well_, Alex thought, _Mer knows Yang, Yang knows Hunt and Hunt knows what's going on in here._

"Hey", Meredith greeted him merrily as he walked to them. Pregnancy hormones were once again making her act like she was stoned. Derek, holding his hand on top of her belly, smiled at him. "What's up, Karev?"

"Nothing much", he answered. "I was just wondering if either of you knew what is going on in the NICU?"

"Why would we know?" Meredith asked with a smile. "Isn't it your job to know what's going on in Peds?"

"Well, that's what I thought, but I think there's something in there and I'm not told what. There's something going on with Robbins and Hunt and…"

Derek frowned. "Hunt's sick."

"What?"

"Callie told me. He's sick, and I'm covering for him for a couple of days."

"But I just talked with him, like, five minutes ago. He said Robbins is working on a case under his orders."

Derek looked confused. "Really?"

"Yea, and he seemed fine. Pissed off, but otherwise healthy."

"Well, I heard from Heather Brooks that Arizona was in a surgery with Callie, April and Fields earlier the night", Meredith said. "Why don't you ask her?"

Alex glanced at Fields and then rolled his eyes as curiosity won him over. "Alright!" He walked over to her and notified his presence by clearing his throat. Fields didn't even raise her eyes from the puzzle. "What?" she slowly asked.

"Umm, I was just wondering if you… You were in a surgery earlier, weren't you? With Kepner, Torres and Robbins?"

"Yes", she replied, still not raising her head. "Why?"

"Well, Dr. Robbins isn't telling me anything about the surgery, and I kind of need to know, since I'm a Fellow, so could you –"

"Tell you about the surgery?" she said, finally lifting her head. "No."

"Oh come on! Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"Oh, Alex, when have I ever given you an easy answer?"

"Look, I'm not joking…"

"Neither am I. I –" Her sentence was broken by the sound of her pager. She checked it and instantly bounced up. "Oh crap!"

"Whoa! What?" Alex said, grabbing her hand.

"I need to go. A teen mom's decided to give birth three weeks before her expected time."

"What? NO!" Alex exclaimed, and everyone in the room turned to see what was going on, Bailey giving him and angry glare. As Fields was about to leave the room, Alex stopped her and stepped in front of her. "Please, just… Please tell me what's going on."

"Dr. Karev!" Fields exclaimed, frowning her brows. "I need to go!"

"Please! Robbins won't tell me, and when I asked Hunt, he yelled at me –"

"Well, probably because it's his daughter!" Fields snapped, bowling over the entire room. "Now could you please move?"

"Sure…" Alex slurred and moved aside. As Dr. Fields ran past him, he could see the reflection of his own stunned face on the faces of everyone else. There was a stunned silence.

"His… _daughter_?" Meredith repeated, taken aback. That's when she felt vibration in the pocket of her pants, as her pager started beeping.

* * *

She found her from a storage room, just like her page had said. It was the same room where they had sheltered from the shooter, just two years ago. Now Meredith entered the room and found Cristina, who was sitting on a chest in the shadows, staring at the floor and sobbing. She quickly closed the door and walked over to her friend, sat down next to her and wrapped her arm around her. "Cristina?"

"Mer!" Cristina said with a weak, trembling voice, and buried her face against Meredith's shoulder, no longer even trying to hold back her tears. Meredith was rather shocked to see her person so powerless and broken. "He has a child", Cristina squalled while squeezing her sleeves. "I denied him a child and he got one with someone else and now he hates me."

"Shh… No he doesn't", Meredith comforted. "He could never hate you."

"He already does. I thought we were past that, but he still hates me for what I did. He's going to hate me for it for the rest of his life. I'm going to pay for that one thing for the rest of my life. Is it ever forgiven?"

"Cristina, I don't mean to interfere, but what about what _he_ did to _you_?"

"No!" Cristina cried. "Don't you see? I caused all this to happen. Why am I like this? Why can't I be like everyone else, like you?"

"Hey", Meredith said, "you're perfect just the way you are. You are _the_ Cristina Yang. You're badass. I'm the surgeon/mother who's half the time too stoned from pregnancy hormones to even think straight."

"But you don't drive away the people that you love."

"Neither do you."

"Yes I do! This is the second man I've driven away. They all end up hating me. They all end up not being able to be with me because no one can love me. No one else could've done what I did, and he's going to hate me for it forever. And now I've lost him and I'm a wreck and I'm in pain and I'm crying all over my best friend because he's managed to mess with my head and made me love him. And now he had the child that I took from him, and I… I gave that child a death sentence and yelled at him while he must be feeling awful, and now I feel awful and I'm just so messed up."

Meredith was powerless. She had never seen her like that. All she could do was hold her friend and cradle her in her arms as she let out everything that she had held inside, as Meredith now realized, for almost a year. Everything – the plane crash, the PTSD, Minnesota, the problems with Owen even from before the plane crash – was now coming out, and she felt useless as the dams came crashing down.

* * *

"What did you say to her?"

Owen was now more sorrowful than he had probably ever been. He was sitting next to the incubator containing his newborn, mortally ill daughter, whose life was hanging by a thread, and now he had also managed to destroy everything between him and Cristina, the woman that he loved more than anything in the world.

_Not all women are like you. _He hated himself for saying that.. He regretted saying that. He couldn't believe that he had actually said something like that. It had been so quick, so nimble to escape his tongue that he hadn't even truly realized it before he had already said it. He didn't even know where it came from. Of course he was messed up and disorientated because of Claire and the danger to her life, but that didn't justify his words. And his voice, so bitter, so resentful as he had yelled at her the words. And the look in her yes after he had said it...

Why? _Why_ couldn't they get over it? Why did it always have to come back to haunt them? Had he not forgiven her? Had they not already put that to rest? Why did it always come back to that one deed? Every single time.

"I don't know. It all just went wrong. It was a disaster."

"You have to give her time to work through all this. What you told her was a lot to process. Take it from someone who knows it from experience."

Owen looked up at Arizona. "You forgave her, right?"

"I can't really say that I forgave her. After all, I was the one who walked out. But I found out that she had slept with a man and was now pregnant, and I could have moved on, but I didn't want to. Despite everything, I wanted her back. I still loved her. So I moved over the fact that she had slept with Mark. And I can't say that I forgave her for being pregnant, because no one should have to be forgiven for having a child. And I realized that Sofia was just as much my daughter as she was Mark and Callie's."

"I think Cristina won't forgive me this."

"I think she will. Just give her time."

Owen nodded and looked at Claire. "What about her time?"

"Are you asking me as her doctor or as your friend?"

"Both."

"As her doctor I can't say anything. Her condition has neither decreased nor increased. But as your friend I'd say she's going to be okay."

"Thank you."

A moment passed. Arizona looked at her watch. "I have to get back in rounds. Karev's been in charge of Peds the whole night. I need to go help him."

"Okay."

Arizona walked to the door and then turned around. "You should talk to someone. About all this. I can get Derek here, if you..."

"No", Owen replied. "He's got his hands full with Meredith and the baby, and he now needs to keep this hospital running. I think I have someone I can talk to."

"Alright", Arizona said and left the room. Owen dug his phone from his pocket. He hesitated for a moment, thinking whether he should make the phone call or not, but then decided to go for it. He flipped through his contacts until he found the old number. Hoping that the number still worked, he pressed the call-button. He waited, his heart starting to beat a little faster, until he heard a familiar voice answering: _"Hello."_

Relief coursed through his body as he heard the voice. "Hey! It's me, Owen."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then a jovial answer: _"Owen! Hey! Man, am I glad to hear about you. How are you?"_

"Not too good", Owen answered truthfully. "Listen, Teddy, can you spare a moment? I really need someone to talk to."


	6. Chapter 5 - A Mother Knows

**Author Notes:**** Thanks for the reviews, everyone! You are all so great! I really, truly appreciate it when you take the time to comment. Please don't stop! :)**

* * *

The storm clouds dissipated just before the break of dawn, revealing the light blue morning sky. The wind settled, the rain stopped, and the sky cleared. It was truly a unique moment: the shift from night to day, from dark to light, the moment of unbreakable peace and quiet just before sunrise. It was the moment when, according to the ancient Greeks, the night goddess Nyx returned home after her tour around the world and met her sister Hemera, the day goddess, at the doorstep. And then, after that dreamlike moment, the horizon brightened up and the sun rose, painting the sky yellow. As birds started singing the city woke up, people appeared from their houses and the streets and roads of Seattle were filled by commuters, traveling to and from work. It was a new day in Seattle.

At Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, the night shift turned into day shift, and the attendings were about to have their morning meeting. However, the conference room seemed much emptier than usually. The fact that a number of people were absent was hard to notice, though, because the noise and commotion in the room was even louder than before, and the discussion was heated.

"I'm just saying", said Dr. Bailey, "that we should do something."

"Like what?" asked Avery, sitting on the other side of the table. "What can anyone of us do?"

"He's right", April said. "We should leave them be."

Bailey gulped in disbelief. "You mean just leave the poor man alone? Aren't you supposed to be all about 'love thy neighbor'?"

"She's just saying that we don't want to be too pushy", Avery defended her. "I'm sure he would like to have some space right now."

"Doctor Avery, are you a mother?"

"What? No."

"Are you a father?"

"No."

"Then stop talking." Bailey turned to look at the others sitting around her. "Look, I just feel that we should at least give our condolences. The situation that he is in is simply terrible. Doctor Avery and Doctor Kepner may not understand the situation but I, as a mother, do. I think every parent in this room understands. We should do something. We should be there for our colleague and our friend. He is alone. If I had been in a similar situation with Tuck, the last thing I would've needed would be dealing with it all by myself."

"I think Bailey's right", Callie said. "I remember how the first days after Sofia's birth were like. It wasn't easy, and I'm not talking about recovering from the accident."

"I also agree with Doctor Bailey", said Derek, who was sitting at the head of the table, "but this topic is not what we're here for. He is our colleague and friend, but this is none of our business, so I think the best we can do is honor his privacy instead of waffling about this. We will not abandon him, but we will not push our help to him, either."

"Can we now move on?" asked Doctor Russell, who was sitting with his arms crossed and looked rather bored. "I do not feel comfortable talking about our Chief's private life during a meeting, especially when it doesn't include him. I don't know about you, but I have patients to get to, and as I understand it, my fellow attending has also been incapacitated by this... _matter, _so I have an impressive pile of work to do_._"

"Of course", Derek said and stood up. "Okay, everyone. As you all quite obviously now know, Chief Hunt won't be able to work for an indefinite amount of time, due to a personal matter. He has asked me to cover for him as Chief during his absence. I trust Dr. Kepner will take care of the ER?"

She nodded. "Sure."

"I hope other attendings can borrow their interns, should Dr. Kepner run into trouble in the ER. In addition to Dr. Hunt's absence, I'm told Dr. Yang has also requested the morning off, due to an illness. Dr. Grey is taking care of her and they are both expected to return to work later today, but that still gives us three persons' patients and forenoon surgeries to reorganize. Now, I've checked the schedule and would like to move some surgeries around, if that is fine with everybody. Firstly, Dr. Torres, if you could..."

* * *

The first rays of the morning sun penetrated through Owen's shut eyelids, waking him up from a misty, restless, and unintentional sleep. What had happened? Had he dozed off – again? His eyes immediately flew open and he straightened up. The sun was already well on its way to the sky. It hadn't been there when he had last glanced out the window, which meant that he had slept at least ten minutes.

Yawning and shaking off the tiredness, Owen leaned forward in the rocking chair and checked on Claire. His daughter was still motionless. If she hadn't been as immobile as a corpse, she would've appeared to be merely sleeping. Owen looked at her, and as the sun shone to the corner of his eye, he realized that this was her first sunrise. Her first morning.

Owen sat back again and tried to make himself comfortable. He was starting to feel really bad. He hadn't slept for two days: on Tuesday he had worked the entire day and then been on-call during the night, on Wednesday he had worked again and then had the night off, but he and Cristina hadn't exactly been sleeping. Now it was Thursday morning, and he was starting to feel weary. His neck was aching, thanks to the constant dozing off and the bad posture. His head was starting to ache. He hadn't eaten anything for hours. And atop all that was the constant worry about Claire, constant heartache for Cristina, and constant feel of fear and loneliness.

Talking with Teddy had only slightly eased his feel of desolation. She had been shocked by his news, of course, but she had listened to him and offered him comfort. She had felt like a saving angel when Owen had poured some of his heart out to her. But she was still so far away, too far away to offer the feel of propinquity that he now needed. There were only two persons in the world capable of providing him with that feeling. The first was Cristina, whom he now missed more than ever, but with whom he had once again messed things up at the worst possible moment. The other person was his mother, but he couldn't speak to her, either. Not yet.

Owen sunk into his thoughts, his mind clouding with fatigue, and didn't notice the person appearing to the doorway. He was about to doze off again, when he heard Derek's voice: "Rough night, huh?"

He turned and looked at his friend. Derek walked in and stepped beside him, a sad smile on his face. "We rearranged the schedule", he said. "Kepner's taking care of the ER. Everything's working well."

Owen nodded. "Good."

Derek looked at Claire. "How is she?"

"Sleeping. Arizona says her condition is in a stasis; she's neither getting better nor worse. I don't know if that's a good thing or not." They were silent for a while, then Owen continued: "So you know?"

"Yea."

"Does everybody else know?"

"Pretty much."

"Great."

"You know", Derek said, "we are all here if you need any help..."

"Thanks." Owen thought for a moment and then bridled. "I called Teddy."

Derek frowned. "Teddy? How is she?"

"She's doing fine. She has a lot of work. Anyway, I called her and told her what's happened."

"And?"

"And we talked. It felt good to talk with someone."

"What about your mother? Have you talked to her yet?"

Owen shook his head. "No, not yet."

"Why not? She's going to want to know that she has a granddaughter."

"I don't want to tell her yet. I mean, she has always wanted grandchildren, but this would be a huge shock for her. I don't want to upset her for nothing, in case Claire doesn't..." He didn't finish the sentence, he didn't want to.

"I think you should still tell her", Derek said. "Don't you think she would like to see her granddaughter, especially now when the danger is present? She's her grandmother, she's going to want to see her alive. If something happens and you tell her only afterward when it's too late, _that's _going to shock her."

"Yea. I guess you're right", Owen said and yawned, something that didn't go unnoticed by Derek. "When have you last slept?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"Monday night", Owen replied, yawning again. "But it's okay. I can work three days straight, it's no big deal."

"Yes it is. You should get some sleep. And eat. And no offense, but a shower wouldn't hurt, either."

"Stop sounding like my mother. I can't go anywhere. Not until she's okay."

"That could take days", Derek reminded him.

"I don't care. I won't leave her alone."

Derek raised his eyebrows. He knew how stubborn Hunt could be. He also knew that there was nothing more obstinate in the world than a parent sitting over their child's sickbed. He dug his pager from the pocket of his pants.

"What are you doing?" Owen asked.

"Dr. Wilson's on Karev's service today", Derek explained as he wrote a message, "and Alex said this morning that he can lend her to Kepner if the ER gets out of hand. The ER's calm, so we're borrowing Wilson instead."

"You're paging her here to babysit", Owen realized.

"Yep", Derek said and put away the pager. "Now there's someone to watch over Clare, so you are free to take a break. Oh come on", he added, seeing the look in Owen's eyes, "you can't stay here forever. I saw you drooping when I came in. You're going to fall asleep sooner or later, whether you want to or not, so why not do it in a comfortable bed instead of a hard chair?"

"Well I can just as well go sleep in an on-call room, then", Owen protested.

"Yes, except you can't. I'm taking you home."

"Shepherd, I'm not –"

"You paged me, Dr. Shepherd?" said Dr. Jo Wilson as she emerged through the door. She quickly

glanced at Owen and then turned her eyes back on Derek – she was still a little uncomfortable around him after the... cupping a feel. Owen cleared his throat and looked away.

"Yes, I did", Derek said, clearly a bit amused by the awkwardness of the situation. "Could you please watch over Claire for an hour or two, while I take Dr. Hunt home?"

"I... Sure", Dr. Wilson said, seeing the meaningful look that Derek gave her. "Yea, no problem."

"Good", Derek said and turned to Owen. "Okay then, let's get you home."

"I..."

"Come on. She's here. She's going to stay here, in this room, and she won't take her eyes off of her, right?" he asked Dr. Wilson, who quickly nodded. "And if anything happens, she'll call you. Now come on. You're tired."

Owen tried to protest, but realized that resistance was futile. And as soon as Derek had said it, he had realized how tired he truly was. So, with no excuses left, he got up from the chair, gave his seat to Dr. Wilson and then looked at his daughter one last time. "I'm going to come back as soon as I can, okay? Just... hang in there. Daddy loves you."

"I'll take good care of her", Dr. Wilson assured. "There are piles of storybooks in the Peds storage room, I can have Alex bring some to me and I'll read her stories."

Owen nodded. "Thank you."

"You should take good care of her", Derek said. "After all, it's your boss's kid."

Derek's comment made Owen smile a little. He followed Derek out of the room. As they walked in the hallway, he could feel the nurses' stares in his back, but he didn't care. He was so tired. The journey felt like a dream, and before he knew it, he was sitting in Derek's car and they were driving off the parking lot.

"Where are you going?" he asked when Derek drove to the hospital intersection and made a right. "The trailer's at the opposite direction."

"We're not going to the trailer", Derek replied.

Owen frowned. "Then where are we going?"

"To where I said I'd take you. Home."

* * *

The morning sun rose, it's rays banishing the shadows of the night from Willow Street, a quiet street in the suburbs of Seattle. It's warmth and light also beamed through the kitchen window of number 24, illuminating the room and the elderly woman drinking her morning coffee at the table. The woman, still wearing her white nightgown, had a gray, almost silvery hair with streaks of blonde tied to a loose bun. She was reading the morning paper and enjoying the feel of sun's warmth against her back, so she didn't notice the black car pulling over to the side of the street in front of her house. On the kitchen island in front of the table was an old photo, a family portrait: a red-haired man with glasses, a smiling blonde woman, and between them a red-haired boy holding a football. The boy looked like a younger version of the red-haired man walking on the walkway towards the front door, accompanied by a black-haired man. Of course, the elderly woman was reading the paper and didn't see this. She only raised her head from the paper when she heard a knock on the door.

_Who could it be at this hour? _Marion Hunt thought as she got up and walked to the vestibule. She opened the door and was quite surprised to see his son standing on the porch, next to a man whom she recognized as Dr. Derek Shepherd. "Owen!"

"Hey, mom", her son greeted her. He was looking dead-beet and quite miserable, like he hadn't slept in days. This look instantly triggered her motherly instincts into action. Was he having nightmares again? "What are you doing here so early?" she asked.

"I just...", he started, and she realized that his voice was trembling. "I needed to see you." These words were followed by something that took her completely by surprise: her son darted forwards and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug like he had done as a little boy. Marion hugged her son, her face reflecting confusion which turned into consternation as she realized that her son was crying. "Shhh...", she comforted her son while looking questioningly at Derek over his shoulder. The look in his eyes told her that something big had happened. Was it about his PTSD? About Cristina? Or about them both? Had something similar to the choking happened again?

"Let's go inside", Derek said. "We'll explain."

* * *

Forty five minutes later, Marion entered the living room, where Dr. Shepherd was sitting on the couch, eying the family photos on the mantelpiece. She was feeling a little lightheaded, so she sat down to the armchair. On the coffee table in front of her was a magazine that she had been reading last night. Ironically, on the cover there was an article **Are grandparents just babysitters to their grandchildren? **

"Did you talk?" Derek asked.

Marion nodded. "We sure did."

"How are you?"

"Well, considering that my son just told me that I have a seriously ill granddaughter born from a... _one night thing_, I think I'm doing all right. I haven't had a heart attack. Yet." She gave a nervous laugh. "Why is it that every time someone brings my son to me, he has a bomb to drop. And this time I haven't even finished my morning paper yet."

"This must come as quite a shock to you?"

"Well, I can't say that I'm not shocked. Of course I'm happy to be a grandmother, and I'm happy for my son. I know how much he has always wanted to have children. It's just all so sudden. I can't even begin to understand what he must be feeling. He literally became a parent in one night – a single parent, no less. And that woman died?"

Derek nodded.

"Owen said she disappeared. What was she doing in Seattle?" Marion asked. She was having mixed feelings about her. On one hand she despised this woman for making a mess out of her son's life and making him miserable. On the other hand she couldn't hate the mother of her granddaughter. She needed to know what she had been in Seattle for.

"We don't know. We don't know whether her arrival to our hospital was a coincidence or if she was purposely on her way to see him when the accident happened. She was operated on by four doctors, but they were unable to save her."

"Thank God they were able to at least save my granddaughter, even though she's still in danger. Owen said her condition is in a stasis and she's neither getting better nor worse. Is that a good sign?"

"I don't know, I'm not a pediatric surgeon. It means that her medication has stopped the virus from doing any more harm, but it hasn't been able to defeat it. It's still holding her in it's grip."

"But there is hope?" Marion asked with a pleading look in her eyes.

"Once again I don't know for sure, but I'd say yes, there is hope."

She closed her eyes. "If there's hope, there's a chance that she's going to be fine. I can live with that."

"What about Owen", Derek asked. "How is he?"

"He fell asleep in his father's study. That's where he always went to think when something was bothering him. He was very close with his father, so no wonder the study became his safe haven."

Derek smiled. Apparently it was Owen's custom to find a refuge from the places where he dwelt. First the study, then the Vent.

"He's going to need help", Marion suddenly said. "I understand you have children, Dr. Shepherd?"

"Yes. My wife is expecting our second child."

"Then you know how hard it is to raise children, especially as a single parent, and especially after a start like this. You can't let him try to handle this on his own. He may not show it, but he is broken, and he is worried sick. I know my son doesn't talk about his feeling that often, he is like his father. But he is going to need people around him. He needs a shoulder, especially now when the situation with Cristina is what it is. He needs to know that he is not alone."

"Of course he's not alone", Derek said. "He's got us. And he's got you. I assure you, Mrs. Hunt, we do not abandon our colleagues and friends. Dr. Miranda Bailey made that very clear to us all just this morning."

"Miranda Bailey?" Marion tried to fumble the name. "She is the one close to Dr. Webber, the doctor whom no one says 'no' to."

"That sounds about right. How did you know?"

"Owen's told me about her. And I think I met her when I had my routine tests done. I used to go to your hospital but switched to Seattle Press when Owen started working with you. You people are his friends, I hardly think he would like the idea of you having me as a patient. At least I wouldn't if I were him."

Derek couldn't help but smile. At least now he knew where Owen had gotten his strong sense of privacy from. He then looked at the clock and got up. "I should probably go, I'm needed at the hospital."

Marion got up as well. "Yes, of course. And thank you for bringing him home. Though he didn't say it, it was clear in his eyes that he was relieved to be here."

"No problem. And I hope things get better", Derek said as they walked to the vestibule. Marion opened the door for him and said: "Thank you. We'll come to see my granddaughter as soon as he wakes up and has eaten something."

"I'll make sure someone guards her until you arrive", Derek said as he walked out the door. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

When the door shut, Marion walked to her late husband's study. Her son was sleeping peacefully on the couch. He looked so much younger, so much more relaxed. He was guarded by the memorial photo of his father, hanging above the desk on the opposite wall from the couch. Marion looked at her husband. _Oh, Robert, I wish you were here to help. But don't worry, I'm going to fix this. And I'm sure you're in there, somewhere, watching over us. _

She turned her attention back to her son and looked at his cell phone on the coffee table. She knew that Owen didn't like when people intervened with his business, he was like his mother. But she also knew that this was something he just couldn't do on his own. He rarely asked for help, but now he needed it. He was lonely and unhappy and it was her duty as his mother to try to cheer him up a bit. But she needed some help, too.

She grabbed his phone and started going through his contacts. In her mind, she was thanking her niece Stina for teaching her how to use those "smartphones". It took her a while, but eventually she found the number she was looking for. She pressed the call-button and patiently waited until she heard an answer.

"Hello. Doctor Bailey?" she spoke. "Yes, this is Marion Hunt, Dr. Hunt's mother. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I think I'm in a need of assistance, and I believe you can help me..."

* * *

"I can't believe you let me sleep through the whole day!" said Owen, as they drove towards the hospital.

"I'm sorry", said Marion. "But you were sleeping so peacefully. I thought it would be cruel to wake you. And admit it: you were in the need of some sleep."

"Exactly. _Some _sleep. Not 13 hours. Doctor Robbins is about to do her evening rounds. I want to be there."

"You would've eventually burned yourself out if you hadn't slept", his mother stated. "It's okay to sleep. Didn't you say there's a doctor looking after her while you're gone, and that she would call you if anything happens?"

"Yes, Dr. Wilson. But..."

"And has she called?"

"No, but..."

"Then nothing has changed. Except you feel a little bit better now."

"It's not about that. You don't –"

"What? Understand?" Marion looked at her son with raised eyebrows. "Owen, I understand it very well. I understand that you want to be there for her, I understand how hard it is to shake that feeling that everything's going to go wrong as soon as you take your eyes off her. I know that

feeling. It's scary, it's terrifying, and it's called being a parent. But you are only a human, Owen. You can't stay with her forever."

"I know", Owen said. "I just can't stop thinking that what if her condition had decreased while I was sleeping or eating. I just feel like I need to be there, in case something happens."

"But you can't always be there, son", Marion said with a sad smile. "That's the first thing you need to learn about parenting: no matter how much you try, you can't always be there. That's why you need to learn to trust the world just enough so that you can let your child free without expecting it to end in a disaster. Anything in this world can go wrong. But that doesn't mean it will."

Owen didn't answer. His mother's words reminded him of Callie's panic attack when Sofia had been placed in a safety seat. He remembered what Dr. Bailey had said to her: "_You don't feel this way because you were in an accident. You feel this way because you are a parent. It'll pass, mostly. Some of it never will. _Now he understood what she had meant.

"I can't wait to see her", Marion stated. "What does she look like?"

"A lot like me when I was younger."

His mother smiled. "Red-haired?"

He nodded.

"That gene just won't go away. It's becoming a family trademark."

"You can blame grandma."

"I am. I was hoping that you would pass on at least some of my hair, but no, it's still Eleanor with her perfect red hair. How about her eyes?"

"I haven't seen them yet. But I'm told they are like mine."

"You'll see them. I promise", she assured. A moment of silence passed, until she decided to speak again: "I'm honored, by the way. That you named her after my sister."

Owen managed to smile. "I've known that I'll name my daughter after her since I was 16. I think it's a beautiful name."

"Me too."

After that, they didn't speak much. Owen pulled over to the parking lot, next to his truck. They stepped out of the car and walked to the hospital.

"Should we go to the info desk or something?" Marion asked.

"Why? You're with me", Owen said and led his mother towards the hallway leading to Peds. He opened the doors and immediately froze.

"Owen? What is it?" his mother asked. He didn't answer. He was still staring at the other end of the corridor, where Cristina had just stood. She had emerged from the doors, looked at him for a second, and then disappeared to another corridor as a flash of blue scrubs, black hair, and something violet and yellow.

"Honey?"

He shook his head, snapping himself out of it. "Sorry. Nothing. Let's go."

As they approached the Peds waiting area, Owen could hear the sounds of a mass of people. _What the heck, _he thought. Why were there so many people in Peds waiting area? Had something serious happened? Had there been an accident involving children, flooding the waiting area with relatives? No, that wasn't possible. Had such disaster happened, he would've been paged to work. No, this had to be something else.

Owen and Marion turned around the corner and stopped, Owen stunned, Marion smiling happily. The people in the waiting area were his friends and colleagues. Dr. Bailey. Dr. Webber. Dr. Torres. Dr. Kepner. Dr. Avery. Dr. Karev. Dr. Grey. All there.

"What... What..." Words failed him. What were they all there for?

"Before you say anything", said Alex, "this was Bailey's idea."

"Sssshhh." Bailey made a shushing noise to Alex and then turned to Owen. "We thought... Well, _I _thought..."

"_We _thought", Marion said.

"Yes, _we _thought, as in I and your mother... We thought that..."

"We're here for you", Callie helped. "And for Claire. We wanted to show you that you are not alone in this. We're all here, and we all want to help. We all agreed to come here – Arizona would be here but she's doing her rounds."

"And Derek's in surgery", said Meredith.

"Yes. So, everyone wants to help you. And Claire."

"You do not have to survive on your own", reminded Richard. "In this hospital we help each other. No matter what."

"And we wanted you to know that", said April. "So we came here. And we all bought something for Claire. She's going to need toys and such when she gets older. Arizona already took our gifts to her room."

"But don't worry, none of us got their gift from the hospital gift shop", Avery threw in.

"So the bottom line is", said Bailey, "that we want you to know that we're here for you whenever you need help. And that we're all hoping and praying that Claire gets better soon."

Owen was stunned. He couldn't believe that they we're all there, all of them, for him and his daughter. Normally he wouldn't have liked people getting into his business, but now his heart was filled with nothing more than warmth, tenderness and gratitude towards those people. It made him want to hug each and every one of them. "Thank you. Thank you so much", he said, deep emotion in his voice, and then turned to his mother. "You did this?"

His mother smiled. "I may have called Dr. Bailey, but this was mostly their idea."

Owen still couldn't speak. He just smiled and looked at the people around him, the best people in the world. Suddenly he realized something: Cristina was missing. Of course she was missing. What had he expected? Had he really for a moment hoped that she would be there, telling him that she was there for him and that she hoped Claire would get better? That, for just that moment, their problems would've been fixed and everything would've been well for just that little moment? Yes. He had hoped that. He had hoped that she would've forgiven him. She was the one person that he needed, and though having all his friends by his side made him feel better, she was the only one who could truly make him feel that everything was going to be okay. So yes, he had hoped that she would be there. But she wasn't and he understood very well why she wasn't able to forgive him this. But understanding it didn't make it any more bearable.

Before anyone realized that Owen's face had darkened and he had fallen silent, there was a strange sound in the air that broke the quietness in the waiting room. Everyone heard the sound, and they all froze and listened to it. It was an ordinary sound, as uncommon as the bark of a dog or the sound of a motor running, but still it was able to silence the entire room, like it had been the sound of an angel's horn.

Crying.

Everyone turned to see the doors of the NICU, just as Arizona Robbins came through them, wearing a familiar pink gown. She looked at Owen. "Owen, I think you should come see this."

Everybody turned around and looked at Owen. He was still for a moment and then, without a command from his brain, his legs started moving. As if in slow-motion, like a sleepwalker, he walked past all his friends, followed by his mother, and their faces floated past him like mist in the wind. All he saw was Arizona, who turned around and walked back to the NICU. With everyone's stare in his back he followed her with his mother, the doors swinging shut behind them. It felt like a dream. They followed Arizona, and she led them to the room where there was a rocking chair, a wall full of monitors and screens... and an incubator containing a crying – and more importantly, _conscious – _Claire Hunt.

"I came to examine her and she just woke up", Arizona explained as Owen gasped. He couldn't believe it. He didn't dare to believe it. After all the worry, after all the pain, after that poisonous shadow of fear had been suffocating him for so long... She was awake.

"Oh my God", he said and walked to the incubator, marveling at the sight of his daughter moving her tiny limbs, turning her tiny head and crying, practically screaming with all her might, as if to let everyone know that she was alive and the fight was not over. He couldn't stop the tears of happiness from escaping his eyes as he put his hand through the hole on the side of the cover, touched his daughter and said: "Hey there, Claire. You're awake! There, there, now. You don't have to keep shouting. We all heard you already."

As if the baby had recognized her father's voice, her crying immediately ceased, turning into faint vocalization, and she turned her head towards him and finally showed him the eyes that he had wanted to see for so long. He made a little sob as he finally saw them: two beautiful ocean-blue eyes, bottomless and beautiful, exactly similar to those of his and his mother. And they stared at each other, a father and a daughter, and Owen just kept stroking her cheek. "It's okay, now", he murmured. "It's okay. Daddy's here. It's okay. And look, grandma's here, too!"

"Hey, beautiful", Marion said, joining her son. She looked years younger, and her smile was brighter than the sun. "You gave us quite a scare, didn't you? But it's okay. Grandma knew that you were going to be okay. You're a Hunt. You will always survive."

Little Claire just stared at them.

Owen turned to see Arizona, who was also smiling. "Thank you", he said. "Thank you."

"We're not out of the woods yet", she reminded him. "She's still sick. And she still has a hole in her heart that we need to monitor."

"But this is a good sign, right?" asked Marion.

"Yes", Arizona said. "This is a good sign." She walked to the incubator and smiled at Claire. "Hello, Princess. I see you already know your dad and grandmother. I'm your doctor, Arizona. I should have known you wake up when we bring you presents."

Owen turned to see the pile of gifts left at the table next to the rocking chair.

"Everyone brought something" Arizona explained. "Those who could not make it gave their gifts for someone else to deliver."

Owen scanned the pile. There were all kinds of little stuffed animals, a brown teddy bear from April, an elephant from Meredith and Derek, a giraffe from Alex, and a little smiling snake from Callie and Arizona. Bailey's gift was a small colorful xylophone. Richard had bought a picture book, and Avery had given two dolls, a girl dressed as a doctor and a boy dressed in an army suit. The gifts were all wonderful. But what caught Owen's attention was the gift-bag next to Meredith and Derek's elephant. What had Arizona said? '_Those who could not make it gave their gifts for someone else to deliver_'.

The gift was a violet stuffed owl. In a yellow gift-bag.


	7. Chapter 6 - I Will Survive

**Author Notes:**** Thank you, everyone, for your reviews. They have really given me a lot to think about. After reading your feedback I realize that there are some things that need to be explained. I sometimes forget that only I know everything that's going on, and that's why I sometimes fail to write things "clear" enough. I guess I just always trust that people realize that things can happen off-screen as well. That said, I wrote this flashback-chapter which will hopefully explain what happened when Owen was sleeping at his mom's. But there are some things I wish to clarify right here and now.**

**About labeling:**** One of the main story arcs of this story is the relationship of Owen and Cristina, and how will they react to this change in Owen's life. It is about Cristina and Owen's relationship, therefore it is a Cristina and Owen story. In season 8 they were apart after Owen's infidelity, that was about Cristina and Owen's relationship. Now they're apart, and it is again about Cristina and Owen's relationship. I'm sorry if I've broken some unwritten rule that says all CO-stories must include them being happy, living happily ever after and having 15 children. But such rule was not included in those that I agreed to obey when I started writing on this site. Let me make this clear to all: I do ****NOT**** follow unwritten rules that say stories that include bad things are not allowed because people are used to reading stories where CO lives in a bubble. Another thing is that I want to write a story where a child is involved, but I do ****NOT**** want to write the same story that has already been told about a dozen times, which is Cristina magically suddenly wanting children with Owen. I don't write what has already been written, and I wanted to write a story like this, so having a love child was the only option. **

**About CO:**** I know Cristina hasn't made much of an appearance yet, but that's because I don't want to write about two major issues (Claire's health and the relationship with Cristina) at the same time. It would be too complex – to write and to read. I've divided this story into portions, first portion deals with Claire, the second portion deals with Cristina. CO's relationship will be explored as soon as Claire's okay. Plus I think Cristina wouldn't "make a scene" now that Owen's already wrecked. She is wrecked as well, but she isn't inappropriate and she doesn't want to make the same mistake of doing rushed decisions again. She first needs to figure out whether she wants to try to work things out with Owen, and if she chooses to speak with him, she wants to do it when they are both ready to talk. And for the record, I ****DO ****understand Cristina Yang. And more importantly, I ****DO ****care.**

**About Planning:**** Some people seem to think that I just write whatever I want and make characters act however I wish. This is not the case. My updates take time, because I do a writer's work. I carefully plan every move and consider whether the characters would or could do the things I'm planning. I do not want my characters to be completely OOC. For example, I thought for a long time whether I could write Cristina giving a gift, but then I decided to follow through with it and this chapter explains why she did so.**

**About Choosing Sides:**** I think the idea of "I can't show you and your ill daughter sympathy because I'm on Cristina's side" is horrible. This isn't about choosing sides anymore. This is about a little girl fighting for her life, and a life in jeopardy goes above everything else. Relationship issues are irrelevant in such situation. Owen is their friend and they are not a part of the problems between him and Cristina, so I don't think it's OOC for everyone to give their condolences when his daughter is literally inches away from death. **

**About Meredith and Derek:**** Derek, Owen and Mark were good friends, and I feel Mark's death brought Owen and Derek much closer. I see no reason why Derek wouldn't want to ****support Owen. They are friends, and while Cristina is his friend as well, Owen's the one Derek would go talk to if he ever needed a friend. As far as Meredith is concerned, 9x23 proved that she doesn't think of Owen like she did in season 8. Of course she'll always be on Cristina's side, but now she's got nothing to blame Owen for: like Cristina, she has moved on from the cheating, and I feel that like Cristina, she is above blaming Owen – or worse, Claire ****herself – for her birth. Meredith also had no other option than to attend the support-group: ****had Derek been available, she would've probably chosen not to attend, but Derek was in surgery and one of them had to be there, so it had to be her. Furthermore, Meredith said no words of comfort, she was merely present, so we don't yet know what she's thinking.**

**-Apinapoikaerkki.**

* * *

**REMINDER: This chapter is a flashback set during the time when Owen was at his mom's. **

Cristina Yang was many things. She was brilliant. She was talented. She was the best cardiothoracic surgeon in the country. She was intelligent. She was a scientist. She was beautiful. She was passionate. She was the best. But the one thing she wasn't was a brooder, which is why after spending two hours sulking and brooding at Meredith's, she was quick to get up when Meredith mentioned that they were due to return to the hospital soon.

"Are you sure?" Meredith asked as she followed her to the car.

"Of course I'm sure. I'm done feeling heartbroken because of the same thing over and over again. I'm going to go to work, tend my patients and be fine."

"But he's going to be there. Are you sure that you can...?"

"Meredith, I said I'm done. Okay? I'm done crying. I'm done weeping. I'm done being incapacitated by men. I know how I'm supposed to feel, but I don't want to feel that way. I don't like to feel that way. I've already done it. When I left him the first time, I cried. When we were apart because of Teddy before that godforsaken day, I cried. I cried in the elevator after he told me that he was moving out. I cried like hell while on the phone with you after he had left the firehouse. And I

cried in Minnesota because everything was such a mess, and it was cold and my tears eventually froze. I don't want to cry anymore. I don't want to feel hurt because it _hurts _to feel so. I will not let myself be wrecked again."

"Cristina, showing emotion isn't a weakness..."

"Well I don't know how else to call it. It stops me from being who I am, which is a surgeon, so it is a weakness. And it's not who I am. You said it, just this morning: I am badass. I am _The_ Cristina Yang. And Cristina Yang shouldn't be missing surgeries because of men. Can't you see that it's beginning to happen again? He has again taken out pieces of me, and I _let _him do that. _Again_. I' not

acting like the person that I am, and before I know it, I'm back at the altar with no eyebrows."

"But what if this is who you really are?"

Cristina gave her friend a glare. "This is not who I am. And I know what you're thinking", she added, seeing the look of concern on her person's face. "You're thinking that I'm just not dealing with my grief correctly or something. What? I haven't gone through all the five steps yet, is that it?"

"Cristina..."

"Well let's go then. I can't believe this has happened. This is so unfair! I'll give anything if I just wake up from this. Oh no, I'm so depressed, I can't live like this. I'm going to be okay. There. Was that enough denial? Enough bargaining? Because I am telling you, I'm done grieving. I won't avoid him. I won't run away from him. I've done all that."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Act normal. Work, do surgery, do charting, be mean to my interns, force my interns to do the charting for me so that I can get to another surgery. I'm going to be fine and I'm going to act like I'm fine. Because I, Cristina Yang, am fine."

* * *

The day went by just the way she had promised it would. As soon as she got to the hospital, she

started working. She treated her interns, her patients, and Dr. Russell the way she normally would. She didn't freak out, she didn't break down, she wasn't acting any differently. She was pure iron. She was steel. She was a _rock_. And when she was doing a CABG on a middle-aged woman, she felt like she was rocking the surgery. She devoted all her attention to the surgery, and she was on fire. And she was fine.

She didn't want to see anyone during that day. Not because she wasn't okay, but because she was okay. She didn't need their pity. She didn't need people around her, hugging her and patting her back and saying words of comfort that she didn't need. And she was relieved that her friends knew better than to come and try to save her from her grief. She had already saved herself. This was her own personal matter, and she didn't need anyone's help. The only external help that she needed were the pills in her purse: by four o'clock, her head was aching like hell.

She entered the attendings' locker room and was surprised to find Meredith, Callie and April there, putting away their coats, Meredith holding a stuffed elephant, Callie and April both holding a colorful gift bag. April was showing a brown teddy bear and she was stopped mid-babble by Cristina's arrival: "...and I thought that this looks exactly like me, and –"

Cristina stared at each of them. She hadn't been prepared for running into her colleagues after avoiding them all day – for both her and their sake. "What's going on?" she asked, her eyes locked to the teddy bear that April was holding. The three women looked awfully guilty.

"Cristina", April said, her eyes wide. "We were just..."

"What?" Cristina asked. "Oh come on, you don't have to walk on eggshells just because I'm here. I'm perfectly fine. Now what's with the gift bags? Mer?"

Meredith looked like she was carefully watching her mouth as she spoke: "Bailey told us that it would be suitable for us to... sort of go and pay our respects.. for..."

"Oh." Cristina realized. "They're for Claire."

"Yes. Or this is actually Zola's old. She doesn't play with it. Derek made me get something, and I went home and grabbed this. I'm sorry."

"No it's okay", Cristina said, her voice and expression totally blank. She looked at the colorful bags. "And those are from a toy store?"

"Yea", Callie carefully said. "Look, I'm sorry. This must be awful to you, but Bailey kind of made us promise, and..."

"But I don't have to go", Meredith quickly said. "I mean, it's enough that Derek is there. So if you want me to..."

"Mer, you don't have to ask my permission. None of you do." She looked at them, looked at their worried and guilty-looking faces. "If you want to go, then go. You don't need my approval. He's your friend, you would be going if it weren't for me. You don't have to give me any special treatment. I'm fine. I'm fine if you go there, I'm fine if you don't go there. It's indifferent to me. Just don't make such a big deal out of this. Because I'm okay with it. I'm fine – except that I have the headache of the century. But other than that, there's nothing wrong with me. I'll survive. So please, just... get over it, get over yourselves and let me take my pills and go live my life."

Meredith, Callie and April exchanged worried looks as Cristina walked past them, opened her locker door and grabbed her purse. "Now where the hell are my pills?" she muttered to herself as she searched through her purse. Surely they were there. They had to be. She clearly recalled taking one just the other day. She had taken the jar from the purse, opened it while walking to the kitchen, swallowed the pill with a sip of water... and then her laptop had beeped as the sign of an email and she had left the jar at the kitchen counter, next to the empty glass.

"Dammit!" she hissed. She had forgotten the pills and her head was aching like hell. "Dammit! Dammit!" She threw her purse to the floor, as the disgust within turned into a white flash of anger. "DAMMIT!"

Meredith, Callie and April stared with wide eyes at Cristina, who closed her eyes and raised her hands to the sides of her head. She was shaking, squeezing her eyelids shut to prevent the tears of anger from running, and just tried to get a hold of herself. The explosion had lit fires to her soul, fires which she now tried to quench.

"Cristina..." Meredith moved closer, followed by Callie and April, which caused the flames inside her grow taller. "No!" she said. "No, I don't want to hear it."

"Hey, it's okay", Callie tried. "Everything's going to –"

"NO!" Cristina turned to face them, her eyes glittering. "Don't! Don't say that it's going to be okay. I don't want to hear that it's going to be okay, because it isn't! I don't want to hear it because it is not true. You can't say that, you can't promise that, you can't... you can't predict that." She gasped for air for a moment and then half-heartedly slammed her hand against the locker door. "I said I wasn't going to do this."

"I know", Meredith said as Cristina sat to the bench and rubbed her temples. She sat down next to her, and Callie and April – Cristina didn't know whether they were brave or foolish enough to do so – sat down to her other side. To her surprise, however, Cristina didn't feel like telling them to go away.

"I know you don't want to hear this", Callie said, "but we're here for you. Always."

Cristina nodded. She was in a bit of a shock. There was a tornado of so many different emotions swirling around inside her, and she felt helpless in its turmoil. No matter how much she had tried, no matter how deep she had tried to shove her emotions, she still hadn't been able to block her feelings. And now she had erupted like a volcano, and now that she had gotten that anger flowing out of her system, she was powerless to do anything other that just sit and let Meredith and Callie

wrap their arms around her.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but at some point she just felt that it had been long enough.

"Callie, April", she said. "You can go now."

"Are you sure?" Callie asked.

"Yes. Please."

Callie and April got up. April was still holding the teddy bear. "Umm...", she said.

"Go. I don't want to prevent him from having the support he needs. I don't mind if you go. Just... go."

"Okay", Callie said. "But remember: if you need a shoulder or a listener or someone to get drunk with, I'm available."

"Me too", April said.

Cristina nodded. "Thank you."

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Meredith asked when April and Callie had left.

"Yea. I don't care."

"What are you feeling?"

"I feel... angry. Humiliated. Disappointed. But mostly angry. I just don't know what I'm angry

at."

"What do you mean?" Meredith asked, confused. "Aren't you angry at him?"

"I suppose I am. But then again... I'm not."

Meredith looked even more puzzled. "He cheated on you."

"I know, Meredith. I know that very well. But don't you remember that we already had this conversation? I already forgave him that. I'm already past that. That wound was not reopened, and I don't want to open it. Owen cheating wasn't news to me, and that's what makes it so complicated. Usually in situations like this, the cheating and the baby are both revealed at the same time – or at least very close to each other – and it's the cheating that drives people apart. But now the cheating was revealed and forgiven, the wounds had time to heal, and only after that was the baby revealed. I'm not angry at him for cheating, because I already moved past that months ago."

"So... Are you saying that you're angry at the baby?"

"What? No! No! I'm not that monster. I don't want to be that horrible person who hates a child for what it's father did. I refuse to hate a child just because it exists. That's what started all this! I didn't want to resent a child because I didn't want it to exist, so I had the frigging abortion! I refuse to be angry at her. Even I know that she is not to blame."

"I don't understand why you put so much thought into this", Meredith exclaimed. "You have suffered a horrible injustice. Why do you try to find a reason for your hate instead of just letting yourself feel the way you do?"

"Because that's who I am, Meredith. You know that I don't go with my gut. I work with logic. I rationalize things. I have a brain, and I want to use it. I saw what happens when people let their emotions guide them. I saw what happened to those girls with whom I went to school. When they found out that their boyfriends were kissing other girls, when they heard those words 'He cheated', the words created some sort of a barrier, an impenetrable wall that prevented those girls from seeing anything else than 'He cheated'. They got so caught up with the cheating because of their emotions that they failed to see deeper. That's why I forgave Owen. Instead of becoming obsessed with the cheating-part, I sought to find the logical reason behind his act. I made him tell every single detail about that night so that I could understand _why _it happened. Because understanding his motives, those things that caused him to do it, made me see it as a human mistake instead of that deal breaker that everyone else saw it as. That's what helped me forgive him, that's what made the wounds heal, and that is why I trust my brain."

Meredith was silent for a while. "I'm just saying that it would be easier for you to just hate him."

"Didn't you listen to anything what I just said? The anger that I feel in my heart is aimed at him, without a doubt. But my brain says that I've already forgiven him the deed that should be the cause of my anger. My heart wants to hate him for having a child with another woman, but my brain says I can't hate him because it wasn't intentional. Then you add this to the fact that he is already suffering probably as much as I am because she is circling the drain, and the result is that I feel like my mind can't hate him, but my heart can. And I choose my mind over my emotions."

"Can you do that, Cristina? You have to have a target for your anger, otherwise you're just going to tear yourself to pieces."

"I know that! I've been trying to find a reason and a target for this anger, but the problem is that I hate this _situation_. Sometimes I actually wish I would be like Kepner or Callie or Bailey, because then I would have God to blame. I only have the world to blame."

"You can hate the world."

"Can I?"

"Yes. I hate the world sometimes. In fact, I hate it half the time. I hate it for giving me the childhood that I had. I hate it for killing George and Mark and Lexie. I hate it for the bomb and the shooting and the crash. I hate it for constantly trying to make me feel that this hospital isn't my home anymore. You can hate the world."

Cristina nodded. "Okay. Then, I guess I hate the world."

Meredith smiled at Cristina and they sat in silence for a while, until Meredith's pager beeped. She checked it and her expression darkened.

"What is it?"

"It's Derek. He's going to be in surgery for the rest of the evening. That means..."

"That you have to go."

"Yes."

"Then go."

"Okay, I'm going to ask you one more time", Meredith said. "Are you okay with that?"

"I'm okay with that. I don't want people choosing sides because of me. It's childish. I mean, Callie is friends with both of us. I don't want to ask her to choose which one she is going to support and which one she's going to abandon. I don't want it to be me or him for you guys. I want this to be my problem and his problem. It's our relationship, and I wish everyone else would leave it for us to

handle, and act normally. This isn't your issue."

Meredith was looking at her friend with a strange look. Was it... admiration? "You truly are one of a kind", she said.

"I know."

"So, do you still want to talk, or...?"

She shook her head. "We've been soft-core long enough. I need to be getting ready for my valve replacement in 30 minutes, anyway."

"Okay", she said, got up and walked to the door.

"Mer!"

She turned around. "What?"

"Promise me that you won't kick his ass."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because I want to handle this on my own. I don't want anyone pushing me to make a decision. So... promise that you'll stay out of this."

"A decision?" She looked at her with concern in her eyes. "You're not thinking about forgiving, are you?"

"I'm thinking that I need to think about this. I don't know what I'm going to do. I still love him, that hasn't changed. But I don't know if I can get over this. A big part of me feels like I can't. But I still need to talk with him. If a cut needs to be made, it has to be clean. I can't end things like this. It must be a clear decision."

"I understand."

She was about to leave again, when Cristina once more called her name. "What?" she asked.

"If you see one of my interns, tell them to go buy a stuffed animal."

Meredith raised her eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

She nodded. "I'm still going to try to live normally. And if I can't give a toy to a dying kid, that means I have no hope of succeeding. I want everything to be as normal as possible, because that's the only way that I can concentrate on doing surgery. If it were Alex's baby, I'd give it a gift. If it were Jackson's baby, I'd maybe give it a gift. Until I've figured things out, I want to think that it's just a baby. No relationships or issues, just a baby of someone that I know and care about."

"Are you sure you're not just rebelling?" her friend asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I'm just wondering if you want to buy a gift because you feel that the world is trying to bring you down to your knees and you want to show to the world that you won't give in."

Cristina thought for a while. "Sounds reasonable. Yea, maybe I am. I don't know."

"Do you want it to be a particular animal?"

She thought for a while. "Tell them to bring me an owl."

"Okay. Why?"

"Because owls are the only likable animals. They are symbols of wisdom, and Owl is literally the only sane character in Winnie the Pooh."

* * *

An so, when darkness fell that evening, Cristina was walking through the hospital, holding in her hand a yellow gift bag. Her interns had chosen a violet owl with blue belly and large blue eyes. Not the best colors, she admitted, but probably good enough for a baby.

As she walked, she was trying to figure out the reason as to why she was doing this. Nobody expected her to do this, nobody forced her to do this. But maybe that was the reason: everyone expected her to be a crying wreck without realizing that just because most people would be shivering on the floor didn't mean that she would. After talking with Meredith, her confidence had returned, and she had decided to not let this beat her down. And this time she would succeed, because this time she wasn't overdoing it. She admitted that earlier the day she had tried too hard to be okay, which had lead to an emotional explosion. Now she was trying a different strategy: instead of trying to dam up her emotions, she was going to let them flow – but within her control. She now allowed herself to feel, but didn't let her emotions take control. Maybe she was doing this because of that: to prove to herself and everyone else that she was in control. And if she was unable to do something as small as give toy to a kid, then she was clearly not in control.

Or maybe she was doing this because of another reason, a reason that had lurked in the back of her brain for quite some time now. Maybe, just maybe, she was doing this to prove Owen wrong. To prove that what he had shouted at her didn't hold true anymore. She stood behind her decision, she would always stand behind it. But the fact that she had done it didn't make her a monster. She wasn't without compassion. She wasn't without caring. Maybe a part of her was trying to prove him that she was capable of sympathy, despite everything.

Whether the reason was either of those, or whether it was nobility, the will to rebel against the world, or just pure temporal madness, she was going to do this. She wasn't going to back down. But she wasn't ready to face him, which is why she was going to just deliver the owl and go before he would get there. Now was not the time to have that discussion with him. He wasn't ready – and neither was she.

As Cristina walked through the doors leading to a long hallway, she could see two people emerging through the doors on the opposite end of the corridor: and old woman whom she instantly recognized as her ex-Mother-in-law, and next to her was her son.

Cristina and Owen's eyes met, and for a split-second they were looking at each other. Every thought that she had was suddenly washed away, leaving behind nothing but a commandment that came directly from her instincts: _Go! _And before neither of them could even truly realize it, she had darted to the side-corridor.

_Dammit_, she thought. Just as she was trying to figure out what to do next, she spotted a familiar figure walking across the corridor. "Mer."

Her friend stopped and spotted her. "Cristina? What are you –?"

"Listen, just take this", Cristina said as she walked towards her. "I was supposed to take it before he got here, but now it's too late. I don't want to see him yet. Please take it."

"Okay", Meredith said and took the gift bag. "Do I say anything, or...?"

"No. Just take it. Don't say anything. I'll talk to him if I decide so, but I have to do it myself. Just take that so that I can get this over with."

"Okay. I'll come to see you as soon as I can."

"Yea. Just go now."

The two women parted ways, and as Cristina walked away, she could feel the pain inside her. She didn't deny feeling it, but she wasn't going to let it burst and affect her doing. She acknowledged it's existence and let it be where it was, but she still kept on going. Because she was in control. She was going to survive. She wasn't fine yet, but this was the first step towards that finish line.

* * *

**PS.**** There you have it. I hope this cleared things, and if not, then I'm sorry, but this is all I can give. And before you start saying that no woman would ever be able to act like Cristina, I want you to know that this chapter was written in cooperation with my sister's friend who went through a similar ordeal (though in her case the pregnancy was revealed much sooner) and she was able to forgive. So I want to thank Laura for giving me an insider's point of view.**

**PPS.**** Thank you for reviewing, but please stop accusing me of writing Cristina OOC, for I find it slightly hypocritical and unfair. There are Cristinas in this site who are, for example (and with all due respect to their creators), happy mothers, which is – at least for the time being – extremely OOC, but I don't see anyone complaining about them. If those versions of Cristina are allowed to exist, why isn't mine? So unless you have notified those Cristinas to be OOC, don't come say my Cristina is OOC just for the sake of finding as many flaws from this story as possible. **

**-Apinapoikaerkki. **


	8. Chapter 7 - It's a Small World

**Author Notes:**** Thanks again for your great reviews! Keep them coming! :) I truly appreciate that you take the time to review.**

* * *

The next few days felt like a dream. Minutes passed, hours elapsed, day turned into night and then back to day again. Time just went by like a river that slowly runs among the hills and the meadows. It felt like slumber: one moment it was Thursday night, then suddenly, as if no time had passed at all, it was Monday. As if everything in between had been too meaningless to live through, while, in truth, those moments meant everything.

After giving her father the mother of all surprises, Claire had apparently heeded her grandmother's words and decided to fight the virus with ferocity that could only be found in the Hunt family. Even Arizona was taken by surprise by the sudden turn for the better. Day by day her condition slowly increased, her fever went down and her vitality improved. They were small steps, but as Owen knew from experience, the best progress happened slowly, inch by inch. He thought Claire was like a stream of lava: slow but unstoppable. And though Arizona tried to keep him calm by reminding that they weren't on dry land yet, he couldn't help but let joy slowly fill the empty space in his soul that the gradually retreating fear and worry left behind. Every day he dared to place more and more hope in the slowly-growing feel that maybe, just maybe the worst had come to pass.

Having his mother by his side made life a lot easier. She was always there when needed. She was there to take part in those moments of joy when Claire's condition was said to have increased. She was there to offer reassurance when he was having doubts. She was there to make sure that he also took care of himself, ate, slept and showered every now and then. The burdensome ordeal had it's effect on her, but all traces of weariness disappeared from her face every time she saw her granddaughter. She already loved her very much and made sure that she was taken good care of.

Though having his mother around definitely made things easier, there were things that she just couldn't ease. The bed felt cold at night and falling asleep without hearing the familiar snuffle of Cristina sleeping beside him was difficult. The morning oatmeal didn't taste the same without seeing her wolfing down her toast in a hurry. Shower felt cold, no matter how hot the water, without the chance of her joining him, pressing her warm body against his, letting her black curls tickle his skin. Even walking around in the hospital, the place that was his second home, felt strange, knowing that he wasn't going to see her. And though he wanted to, he didn't go looking for her. He knew that if she wanted to see him, she would find him. And though he was now more confused than ever before, especially after noticing the owl that Meredith had confirmed to have come from Cristina, he forced his brain to push Cristina aside and focus on Claire.

On Monday morning, however, the reality struck back in the form of a duty that Owen had completely forgotten about.

* * *

"Owen, hey!" Callie came jogging towards him as he and his mother stepped through the hospital doors. "I've been looking for you."

"Good morning to yourself", Owen said with his brows furrowed. It was still an early morning, but she had said it like she'd been looking for him for ages. "I just got here. What's up?"

"It's about Sharon MacAllister."

His expression immediately sobered down. "What about her?"

"I think I'll leave you two to talk in privacy", Marion said. "I wish to see my granddaughter."

"Sure, mom", he said as she walked towards the elevators. "I'll be there in a moment."

"Actually, this may take a while", Callie stated.

"Why? What is it?"

"Kepner came to talk to me last night, she said that she got a call from the morgue. Sharon MacAllister's body is still unclaimed, and the people there want to know if there's anyone to come and claim her since she doesn't have any family."

_Oh crap_! Owen felt like hitting himself. In the midst of all that whirl he had completely forgotten about her. Somehow he had just assumed that someone else would take care of her. But she had no family to do that. How could he had forgotten a matter of such importance?

"I'm sorry to talk to you about this, but we kinda needed to ask. You are his only... _relative_. Of course you don't need to –"

"No", Owen quickly said. "No, I'll... take care of it. There's no one else to do it. It's my responsibility."

"Are you sure? Because it's okay if you –"

"No, no I can't abandon her like that. She was someone's loved one, someone's daughter. She deserves proper burial. I feel like I owe it to her – and to Claire. She was her mother, after all."

Callie nodded. "Okay. I'll let Kepner know right away."

"Could you also go tell my mother? I'll go to the morgue right away and get it done."

"Yea, of course."

They parted ways, Callie hurried to the elevators while Owen started walking towards the morgue. He knew it was hard to understand why he wanted to take her burial as his burden – he wasn't sure if he even understood it himself – but somehow it just felt like he needed to. Whether it was his overall wish to respect the dead, the fact that no one else was there to do it or the feeling of debt or gratitude or guilt or whatever the hell it was, but somehow he just felt that he needed to do this. For Claire. Whatever the circumstances, she was still the mother of his child, and he needed to treat her as such. He hadn't even known her, yet there was this weird, unexplainable bond between them that obligated him to respect her, even if it meant taking care of her body.

* * *

The morgue was located at the bottom floor of the hospital. There was a narrow hallway with benches and candles leading to the door of the storage (or the "Chamber of Corpses", as some doctors called it). On the right there was a door leading to the small chapel-like room where the body of a loved one could be put on display for the family to see. Owen descended the stairs and arrived to the hallway, where a lone woman was sitting on a bench close to the door. The young dark-haired woman barely even looked up as he sat to the bench next to hers.

After a moment of silence, the diener arrived from the morgue. "Doctor, I got a phone call from Dr. Kepner, I'll be with you in a moment", he said to Owen before turning his attention to the woman who got up and spoke with a low, grief-stricken voice: "Hello. Paula Walsh, we spoke on the phone. I'm here to see the body of Sharon MacAllister."

Owen looked up at the woman with wide eyes. "Excuse me?"

The woman turned her head. "Pardon?"

Owen stood up, shocked. "Did you say Sharon MacAllister?"

"Yes. Why –?" The woman paused, her eyes shot up to his hair, then to his eyes. Her jaw dropped. "Oh my God. Dr. Hunt."

Owen looked at the woman carefully. She had light skin, amber eyes and straight dark hair. There was a faint scar between her eyebrows. She looked somewhat familiar. "Do I know you?"

"I – I – I was your patient once. A car accident... about nine months ago..."

The realization hit him like a current of electricity. A stunned "Oh" was all he could say. This was the woman whose life he had saved nine months ago, the MVC collision with a truck that had given him a lot of work to do on that fateful night. This was the woman whose friend had insisted on buying him a drink at Joe's for saving her life. This woman had brought Sharon MacAllister to his life.

Owen couldn't take his eyes off the woman, and she appeared to be equally unable to stop staring at him. The diener was looking at them questioningly. "Okay...? I have the body ready, Miss Walsh."

"Um, I'm actually here to see the same body", Owen informed, then looked at Miss Walsh. "If that's okay with you, Miss Walsh?"

"Uh... Sure. No problem", the woman stammered.

"Well this is certainly the strangest situation I've ever been in", stated the diener. He lead Owen and Miss Walsh to the morgue and showed them the body. Seeing her pale and battered body made him feel uncomfortable. Miss Walsh, however, collapsed to a stool next to the table, her eyes wide with despair and sorrow. Only now did Owen realize that she had been Miss MacAllister's best friend.

"I'll give you guys some privacy", the diener said and exited to his office.

"I'm sorry, Sharon", Miss Walsh whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

Owen put his hands to his pockets, trying not to look at Miss MacAllister or her grieving friend, who was gently caressing her cold face and sobbing. This was getting extremely awkward. Especially because he didn't know whether Miss Walsh knew about his connection to her friend.

"You must think she was a horrible person?"

Her words were hardly louder than a whisper, and it took a moment for Owen to realize that she was talking to him. "Sorry?"

She gave a grief-stricken laugh. "Lets not pretend that I don't know who you are. You're the married surgeon hunk she went to the bar with."

"Oh", Owen said. "So you know."

"Of course I know, she was my best friend. And she wasn't like that. She came to see me the following day, and she was horrified. She told me what had happened and she regretted it so much. She would never have touched a married man. It's just that... She was always a good drinker, and sometimes that caused her to do stupid things. She wasn't a bad person."

She was looking defiantly at him, daring him to argue, but he just sighed. "I don't think she was a bad person."

"You're right! She wasn't." Miss Walsh turned her head back to her friend. "She was the best friend I've ever had." She gave another sorrowful laugh. "They say a friend helps you after an accident, but a true friend is with you in the car. She was a true friend."

Owen was glancing at the door of the diener's office. He had never been good at these kind of situations. He didn't know if he was supposed to comfort the woman, stay silent or leave. He felt like an intruder in her grief.

After a moment, Miss Walsh stopped sobbing and seemingly pulled herself back together. Came the moment when reality came back with the blunt realization that it was time to move on. The moment when tears turned into silent grief and the will to understand. "How did she die?" Miss Walsh asked. "Did she die straight away or did she suffer? Was she in pain?"

"I wasn't here at the time." Owen felt uncomfortable thinking about that night, but he understood that this woman had the right to know what had happened to her friend. "When I was summoned to the hospital, she was already in surgery. About 20 minutes later I was told that she had died on the table. There was damage in her abdominal aorta and it ruptured, causing her to bleed out. There was nothing the doctors could have done to save her, so they decided to try and save her baby."

Miss Walsh suddenly gasped and stood up, covering her mouth with her hands. "What? Did the baby survive?"

"Um... Yes. She did", Owen stammered.

"Oh my God." Miss Walsh's saucer-sized eyes were filled with new tears as she stared at Owen. "I thought she... Oh my God. I thought... _Wait_." She was suddenly staring at him, shock in her eyes. "Oh my Lord, do you know? Do you know that she's..."

"I know. She managed to tell before she died."

"Oh my God." She looked at Miss MacAllister's body, then at him. "Where is she now?"

"In Pediatrics. There were complications and –"

"Please." She grabbed his arm and looked him in the eyes, a pleading look in her amber eyes. "Can I see her? Please."

Owen looked at her and felt sorry for her. He nodded. "Of course."

* * *

Mrs Hunt was fairly surprised to see Owen enter the room with a young dark-haired woman, who walked to the incubator with glittering eyes, looked at the baby and covered her mouth saying: "Oh my God." She looked at Owen with raised eyebrows, silently asking for an explanation. _Her mother's friend_, Owen mouthed, and her mother nodded while making a silent "_Oh."_

"W-why is she covered in tubes and wires?" Miss Walsh asked.

"She had a dangerous virus", Owen answered, then quickly added: "But she's doing a lot better, now."

"Aha", she said and examined Claire with her gaze. Mrs Hunt backed away until she stood next to Owen. "Want to enlighten me some more?" She whispered from the corner of her lips.

"I ran into her at the morgue", Owen whispered back, "and she asked to see Claire."

"The morgue? What were you doing in the morgue?"

"That's what Callie came to talk to me about. Claire's mother had no family, so her body was still unclaimed. I went to the morgue and she was there."

"And she's a friend of Claire's mother?"

"Yes. She recognized me because she was my trauma patient once."

"How did she find out about her death if she didn't have any family?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, she's awake!" Miss Walsh exclaimed, and at that moment Owen heard a familiar cry that signified that her daughter was awake. He walked to the incubator to see his child while his mother stayed behind. "I talked with the nurse and she said Claire was crying most of the night and then fell asleep around 4am", she informed.

"Claire? Is that her name?" Miss Walsh asked. "It's beautiful."

"I think so too", Owen said and touched his daughter's cheek. "Hey, Tough Girl. How are you today?"

"I'll get us some coffee", Mrs Hunt said and left the room, leaving Owen alone with Miss Walsh. She seemed absolutely mesmerized by Claire. "She looks a lot like you", she noted.

"She does", Owen said with a small smile.

"But that jaw is definitely hers. And those delicate hands. You're going to grow up beautiful."

"Let's just hope she has inherited her looks from her mother", Owen said without thinking, which instantly lead to a nasty sting from his conscience.

"Well, her father's not too bad either", Miss Walsh said with a chuckle, but the smile soon froze. She was eying Owen's hand. "Oh."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Listen, I just want to apologize. For my friend. I'm sorry that she harmed your marriage."

Owen furrowed his brows. "What makes you say that?"

Miss Walsh nodded towards his left hand. "No wedding ring."

Owen followed her gaze to his bare ring finger. He felt another painful sting, this one given by his heart. He sighed. "It's not... We had other problems, big problems. She had nothing to do with them."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I guess it was a train wreck about to happen all along." Owen saw Miss Walsh flinch a bit and realized that talking about train wrecks was stepping into sensitive territory. "Sorry..."

Miss Walsh looked at Claire, but the look in her eyes was somewhere far, far away. "You know, I came home from New York yesterday. Sharon's expected day was two weeks away, so I had bought the most cutest toys and all sorts of mother stuff to her. Last night I went to her apartment with all the gifts and bags, but no one was there. I asked her neighbor, this sweet old lady we called Nana Fields, if she knew where she was. Her daughter works here and had mentioned a surgery involving a pregnant woman, and Nana had realized that it was Sharon."

_Of course_, Owen thought. _Lucy Fields._

"This is just horrible. I come home expecting to share the latest gossip with my best friend and watch her have a baby, and then I find out that my best friend has died and her baby almost died. And do you know what makes this nightmare even worse? My brother, my big brother whom I haven't seen in ages is coming to Seattle today, all the way from Texas to visit me because he wants me to meet his new girlfriend. I had to call him this morning and tell him to come straight to the hospital because I am here claiming my best friends body." She looked at Owen and made a weary sound. "And now I'm pouring out my heart to a man I literally just met."

"It's okay. I'm used to that", Owen said, thinking about Callie. Miss Walsh bridled. "I need a change of subject."

"Okay. You said your brother is coming from Texas. Are you from Texas, or...?"

"No, our family is from Montana. My brother moved to Texas for work. He and his girlfriend both work at MEDCOM in San Antonio."

"Really?" Owen was interested. "I have a friend who works at MEDCOM. She used to be our Head of cardiothoracic surgery."

"Is that so?" Miss Walsh asked. "What was her name?"

"Theodora Altman."

"Here's the coffee!" proclaimed Mrs Hunt as she emerged through the door.

* * *

Cristina and Dr. Russell left the patients' room, both feeling victorious. The patients were all okay, strong and willing to undergo a surgery that would surely be one of the most memorable cardiothoracic surgeries in the history of the hospital. This time tomorrow they would be performing a heterotopic heart transplant on a woman suffering from intense pulmonary hypertension. A piggyback transplant was already a cool procedure, but to make matters more interesting, the donor of the extra heart was the woman's husband. He was a tall, strong man whose heart was too small to effectively support his body, so he would get an all new heart and donate the original heart to his smaller wife. The procedures would be done at the same time, thus making it a highly unusual surgery. Needless to say, Cristina was bursting at the seams from excitement.

"That's one hell of a couple", Dr. Russell stated as they were walking towards the charting station.

"I know. Two people who both have malfunctioning hearts. It's like they were made for each other."

"Exactly. And the husband is literally giving his heart, his life to his wife. That's true love."

"Yea", Cristina said and suddenly her mind was totally elsewhere. "They seem like they'd cut off each other's legs."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, I – nothing." Cristina shook her head. The way Dr. Russell had talked about giving one's entire life to someone had made her think of Owen. "So, we'll meet at the OR tomorrow."

"10.30. Don't be late", Dr. Russell said and left.

"I won't!" Cristina shouted after him and then walked to the charting station. She quickly updated the charts (this time she had to do it herself since all her interns had been snatched away from her for the day) and then decided to go grab something to ear. On her way to the nearest vending machine she walked through the hospital lobby where she spotted Alex and the intern Jo talking with a couple. She was about to move on but suddenly paused, staring at the couple.

The man was tall and handsome, had short dark brown hair and round amber colored eyes. His posture was bolt upright and his arms were behind his back – his poise was similar to Owen's,

Cristina realized. The woman next to him had long straight blonde hair and a long, narrow face, and as she looked over Alex's shoulder and spotted her standing there, Cristina couldn't stop her eyes from widening as she stared into those light green eyes.

Teddy Altman locked eyes with her and a small smile appeared on her lips.


End file.
